

■''it 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap. Copyright No. - 



Shell 



£_s'? 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



POSIE; 



OR, 



FROM REVEILLE TO RETREAT. 



AN ARMY STORY. 



BY 

I, ' 

MRS. M. A. COCHRAN. 









CINCINNATI: 
THK ROBERT OLARKK COMPANY, 

18*!. 



F3 I "3 b <:=. 



Copyright, 1896, 
I'v The Robert Ci.akke Company. 



31-5^^^5-0 



^ebicrttct* 



LADIES OF THE ARMY, 

Who have ever heen the Inspirators and Gimding Stars 
TO THEIR Daintless Heroes; and as the Magnet 
attracts the Steel, so the Educated, I'rave 
AN!) Brilliant Young Officer woos, 
WINS, and brings to our midst, 
THE Cultivated and Fair- 
est Women of the 
Land. 

A n Old A rmv H ''o m a u . 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Plaza and Slave Market, St. Aucjustine, 

• Frontlsimece.!^ 

White River Arizona, , . . 37 

White River Canon, . , . . 41 

MosBV, .... . 45. 
Maria Francisco, , .... 56. 

Dandy Jim, ..... 59 

Arizona Scenery, . . , . .62 

Florida Scenery, .... 79 

Old Fort San Marco, Fla., . . -93 

At the Old Plantation, . . . 12S 

The Old City Gates at St. Augustine, . 13S 

Ro.MAN Catholic Cathedral, . . 141 

"And Hear the Retreat Gun Salute n." 192 



POSIE; 



FROM RHVEILLE TO RETREAT. 



CHAPTER L 



FROM OCEAN TO OCEAN. 



Captain Prescott was in Maine spending the 
summer. The war, with all its strife and blood- 
shed, was over. He had won glory and distinction 
on the field of battle, and endured eighteen months 
of suffering in rebel prisons. Even the trying re- 
construction days, in which he took an active part, 
and his long term of service at the South after the 
war, were now something of the past. 

He had taken a long leave to quietly enjoy his 
childhood's home again, amid the pine and maple, 
of the grand old state, where the silvery waters of 
the Kennebec dashed oast almost at the door, spark- 

(7) 



8 Posie ; or, Fro?n Reveille to Retreat. 

ling, bubbling, murmuring, over its pure white, peb- 
bly bottom, on its journey to the sea. 

In the first few years after the war he had been 
at home frequently, had carried back many trophies, 
but this visit was the only one he had made since 
his marriage. He, like many of the loyal invading 
legion, who went south in 1861, to conquer or to 
die, was conquered; and this last trophy which he 
brought home was a southern wife and two beautiful 
children. Howard, with fair hair and large pensive, 
violet eyes, thoughtful almost to sadness, and Flor- 
ida, the little romp, with dark, defiant eyes and a 
mass of golden brown curls falling in confusion 
around her pretty face and down her back. Never 
before did six months seem to go so rapidly to the 
Captain and his family as did these. There seemed 
to be no end to the variety of life and scene ; every 
thing was so different from what they had been ac- 
customed to. 

The quaint little village of Kennebec, where the 
Captain was born and had spent his early life where 
the roads crossed, and on either side of which, in 
four directions for a mile or more, were the homes 
of the friends with whom he had been reared, 
was a peaceful, picturesque little spot, shaded by 



From Ocean to Ocean. 9 

magnificent forest trees with their wide spreading 
branches almost meeting from opposite sides of the 
road. 

These were the Captain's pride ; he had helped 
plant some of them when a boy, and had watched 
their growth from year to year. 

No fences obstructed the view of the beautiful, 
well kept, sloping lawns. There were no signs of 
"Keep off the grass," and his children rolled and 
tumbled down the slopes just as he had done, or 
wandered off to gather huge bunches of " white 
weed" (daises) which grew there to a large size and 
in profusion. The New England farmer sees no 
beauty in this "white weed" which is a menace to 
his hay fields. 

The Captain delighted in wandering over the old 
scenes. The little red brick school house where the 
children used to sit through two long sessions each 
day was still standing. The same old pine benches 
were there, and carved out in bold relief appeared 
the name of H. J. Prescott in many parts of the 
bench on which he used to sit. Then there were the 
old Academy and High School buildings, once the 
rival schools. 

Students attended from various parts of the state 



1 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

and boarded in the village ; partisan feeling ran high 
among the adherents of each school, and exciting 
events took place. Young Prescott being a natural 
leader bore the blame of many c^onflicts. 

It was not to be wondered at then, when the coun- 
try was in peril, and the President called for troops, 
that this young enthusiast should rally his followers 
and march to the front to defend his country's flag. 

Mrs. Prescott had listened with interest, many 
times before coming North, to talk of his early life in 
the little New England village, of his love of fun 
and the various scrapes he used to get into, and of 
the many queer old characters of the place. Among 
the latter was Barnabas Alden, a man of "deep 
learning," and deacon of the church, and whose 
father had been deacon before him. His hair was 
cut as if a bowl had been placed on his head and 
the hair trimmed straight around it. His three sons 
who lived on the farm with him cut theirs in like 
manner, and his father had always worn his in the 
same way, as perhaps had all the Aldens for genera- 
tions back. The face was perfectly smooth, with 
the exception of a peculiar tuft of hair which grew 
right under the chin. He walked into church with 
a long and measured stride, while his little demure 



From Ocfiin to Ocean. 11 

wife trotted by his side taking two or three steps to 
his one, to keep up with his august gait. The three 
sons strode in after the manner of their paternal an- 
cestor. He adhered strictly to the puritanical idea 
of how children should be brought up, and how they 
should behave in church ; and took it upon himself 
to see that his ideas were carried out. 

Young Prescott " steered clear " of Deacon Alden, 
but once in a while it would be his ill luck to occupy 
a pew in front of the deacon. 

Now, young Prescott, who was an indulged, high- 
strung boy, never came up to the deacon's standard; 
in fact, he fell very far below it, and once in a while, 
forgetting his proximity to the deacon, would at- 
tempt some wild caper, when he would be quickly 
brought to his senses by a flip on the ear, or side of 
the head, which, using Captain Prescott's own words, 
brought vividly to his mind these lines from "The 
Village Blacksmith," which he had learned and re- 
ceived a prize for at school : 

" The smith, a mighty man is he, 
With large and sinewv hands; 
And the muscles of his brawn v arms 
Are strong as iron bands." 



12 Fosic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

After straightening up and behaving with dignity, 
and listening to a lengthy sermon through sheer de- 
spair, he would soon fall asleep, when his slumbers 
would be disturbed in a like manner. The parents 
never interfered with the deacon's discipline, so 
there was order when he was near. He also taught 
at Sunday school, but none of the children were 
anxious to leave this world to soar to the realms 
above as he described them. 

The first Sunday after Captain Prescott and his 
family arrived at the old home, it was decided that 
Mrs. Prescott should attend church with his sister 
and her daughter, a charming, bright girl of sixteen, 
who was organist and leader of the choir. The 
voluntary had just commenced, and Mrs. Prescott 
and her sister had taken their seats, and all eyes of 
those who had known "Henry Prescott" were on 
his " rebel wife." 

She realized it and was behavmg m a decorous 
manner, until hearing peculiar steps she turned in- 
stinctively to learn the cause, when past her filed a 
most peculiar procession — four men with hair cut in 
such a singular way, that if once described it could 
never be forgotten, and a demure little lady taking 
several s eps to the leader's one. The shock of the 



From Ocean to Ocean. 13 

recognition was so great that a hysterical desire to 
giggle took possession of her, but that would not 
do — she must control herself and not think of the 
Aldens. 

Then, in the dreadful effort to control herself she 
turned deathly pale. Her sister at this point noticed 
the pallor and inquired as to the cause, and leaning 
over Mrs. Prescott whispered : " Oh ! that is Barnabas 
Alden." It struck the sister also in a comic manner, 
and the more she would try to control herself the 
more she would wonder how Mrs. Prescott knew 
Barnabas Alden, and how ridiculous the whole affair 
was. 

Captain Prescott's father was the village doctor, 
and the only doctor for miles around. He did not 
attend service regularly, as medical calls interfered, 
but required his children to. He prepared all 
of his own prescriptions at home, as there was no 
drug store in town. 

The old home was a two and a half story frame, 
painted in the conservative tan, with darker trim- 
mings. The barn was about as large as the house, 
and painted just like it. This is the joy of the New 
Englander's heart. Great doors which slide in and 
allow the horses, carriages and occupants to drive in 



1 4 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

or out; sleek-looking horses and cows; great lofts 
of hay and grain stored to last the entire year; rosy- 
combed hens and great fat roosters crow and cackle 
around the doors. Then you pass through the wood- 
shed and laundry and by the rain barrels into the 
kitchen. This is the pride of the housewife's heart; 
the floor is painted a light yellow, with rag carpet rugs 
here and there, every thing in its place and a place 
for every thing; the tins polished until they shine, 
and the stove also polished after each noonday 
meal ; a handsome country girl as cook and maid of 
all work, who amused herself reading part of the 
afternoon, as she was never in a hurry, " had plenty 
of time." The house was one of comfort, as the 
family had the advanced idea, that nothing was too 
good for home use, combined with the old idea of 
thrift and system. 

It was a revelation to Mrs. Prescott, always hav- 
ing been accustomed to "Aunt Dinah's kitchen" 
and many negro slaves, each waiting to have the 
other one to do the work and wasting their time 
laughing and joking. How this one girl could 
cook and do the housework, always keep herself 
neat and still have time to read, was hard for Mrs. 
Prescott to understand ; but she took many notes, 



From Ocean to Ocean. 15 

which were valual)le to her ever afterward in house- 
keeping. 

"Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, 

For the lesson thou hast taught ! 
Thus at the flaming forge of life 

Our fortunes must be wrought ; 
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped 

Each burning deed and thought." 

Every one who has spent a summer in Maine 
knows what it is, knows the bracing influence of its 
chmate and the quieting, charming influence of its 
majestic old forests ; and when these were changing 
their dark green for their many-colored October 
garbs, preparing for the grand autumnal display, 
Captain Prescott and his little family left Portland, 
Maine, for Portland, Oregon, over the grand trans- 
continental railroad, leaving home and friends be- 
hind, for new scenes and new dangers. On, on, 
they wend their way, day after day, behind the 
mighty belching, snorting, iron horse, through fertile 
valleys and prosperous towns, then over the plains 
and through the Rocky Mountains, almost to their 
highest point. 

There is an impression of unspeakable solemnity 
and reverence conveyed here by this giant spectacle. 
One looks on in absolute humility with a feeling 



16 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

of insignificance. The changing expressions in the 
face of nature giving a new idea each time one 
looks even at the same feature. Then the iron 
horse in its gradual descent seemed to take on 
fresh strength, as it were, and onward it bore its 
burden with renewed vigor through the fruitful 
Mormon country into the city of San Francisco. 

A few days rest at the "Occidental" found the 
little party ready to start on the " Ancon " for Port- 
land. As the old craft passed out of the harbor, 
through the Golden Gate into the quiet waters of 
the Pacific, the name seemed most fitted to this 
grand expanse of ocean ; it was so quiet, calm and 
beautiful ; nothing to disturb its perfect serenity but 
an occasional porpoise or whale in the distance, 
which would turn over a few times and then disappear 
from view. 

The heavens were as thoughtful as the ocean, and 
from the bright blue and white skies came the soft- 
est sunshine, which made one feel that to be per- 
fectly happy was to simply sit on the deck and en- 
joy it. This lasted through the entire voyage. 
Was it an omen of a peaceful life in our Western 
home ? Oh ! no ! my friend, it was only a reminder of 
the days that were gone. New beauties opened to us 



From Ocean to Ocean. 17 

now as the steamer left the Pacific and quietly steamed 
into the tranquil waters of America's most beautiful 
river, the Columbia. The Captain informed us that, 
at times, it was exceedingly dangerous to enter, as 
the winds and currents produced such huge foaming 
and tumultuous breakers, and that there were 
treacherous shoals reaching nearly from shore to 
shore. For many miles it is so indented by deep 
bays as to vary from two to perhaps six miles in 
width. At the north the land is high, even moun- 
tainous, covered with forest trees, while to the south 
it is low. Passing Astoria, and having only an ag- 
gravating glimpse as it were of river and country, 
with snow-capped Mount Hood in the distance, we 
turned to the right into the Willamette, and soon found 
ourselves in Portland. After a few days delay, we 
were eager to continue our journey up the Columbia, 
to realize the visions which were portrayed to us in 
the first short glimpse. 

From Portland to Wallula, which was to be our 
next resting-place; there was scarce a moment that 
the soul was not filled with wonder and delight. 
New points of interest opened on us at every turn ! 
Here, there would be a rugged eminence with wa- 
terfalls leaping from a great height, and sending up 



18 Posie ; or, From Revei/k to Rctrcaf. 

clouds of vapor and a harsh, dull roar, and stately 
forest trees looking on, as it were, in dignity. Then 
the mountains would again ap[)roach on both sides 
of the river and perfect cpiiet ensue, save for the 
merry, laughing little cascades which seemed to be 
chasing each other down from the fissures in the 
rocks, hiding away, then reappearing, like children 
at play. Then, again, the mountains receded and 
gave place to beautiful plains. Here picturesque 
Indian villages would appear, with the natives pre- 
l)aring and placing salmon to dry in the sun on 
scaffolds erected on the river banks. Occasionally we 
would pass a charming little wooded island so covered 
with undergrowth that it afforded a safe retreat to 
many water-fowls, which could be seen feeding near 
the banks. The rapid current and turbulent appear- 
ance of the water next gave warning of the Columbia's 
great obstruction — the rapids or cascades. Here 
we left the large steamer, boarded a train and 
wound around the mountain side, the rapids surg 
ing and boiling below for a mile. or more, dashing 
against great rocks that unfairly encroached upon 
the path of the nervous, angry waters, which seemed 
to resent so great an obstacle to their otherwise per- 
fect freedom. 



From Ocean fo Ocean. 19 

Another steamer awaited us on the other side, and 
we continued our journey up the river to Wallula, 
where we were loth to leave the boat and make our 
landing in a genuine Indian country. The little 
town consisted of a few small houses, built of lum- 
ber and canvas, along the bank of the river. There 
were many Indians on the banks watching the boat, 
l)iit what seemed most appalling of all was to pass 
them on the little street on our way to the so-called 
hotel. This, our first experience with real wild In- 
dians in native dress and great knives in the belts at 
their sides, was a shock which took all of the forti- 
tude one possessed to keep from flying back to the 
boat and never resting until safely back in the East. 

The prospect of a night at the hotel, where 
the partitions between the rooms were little more 
than paper, no lock on the door, and tough look- 
ing rhen with great slouch hats sauntering about, 
adventurers in a new country, or perhaps teamsters 
on their way to the interior, was not reassuring. 
Well, we, at any rate, went to bed, and sleep, the 
sweet restorer, came to us even there ! During the 
night we were awakened by the most dreadful 
screams and suppressed moans which seemed in our 
room. Oh! it was dreadful ; such a fright. I could 



20 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

think of nothing but the murder of those nearest and 
dearest to me, but soon found out that it was from 
the next room which was occupied by a somnambu- 
hst, who had attempted to leave the room but was 
prevented by his mother, who was always with him 
and on the alert. As he awakened he would always 
have these fearful screaming and groaning attacks, 
which must be heard to be appreciated, by one 
sleeping in the adjoining room the first night in an 
Indian country. The somnambulist may have slept 
the rest of the night and so did the Captain and the 
children, but when daylight came it found me still 
awake and glad to get out of such a God-forsaken 
place. A little railroad connected this point with 
Walla-Walla, Washington, so, with an early start, we 
were in a few hours safe at a military post, and once 
more with friends. 

This peace, however, was of short duration, as our 
destination was still one hundred miles off; so, as 
soon as transportation could be obtained, which con- 
sisted of an ambulance and wagon, we started off 
through the hills of Idaho, through the Nez Perce 
Indian country, making thirty miles a day, passing 
many Indians and Indian villages and but few white 
people. The second day out two white men, heavily 



From Octaii to Oicaii. 21 

armed, and with pack animals, rode up to the am- 
bulance and inquired if the driver could tell them in 
what direction was "Dead Man's Hollow?" We 
were then in a very desolate part of the country, 
and as the driver laughingly answered, "I really 
don't know, but think that through any of these 
lonely glades you can find such a hollow ! " we 
watched them start again and wondered how even 
gold could lure them to such loneliness. 

After dark of the third day we arrived at Snake 
River, having to cross on a cable ferry before reach- 
ing Lewiston, with the children exhausted and asleep 
on blankets in the bottom of the ambulance, and 
not feeling more than confident that we might at any 
moment find ourselves in the dark and treacherous 
waters. However, the cable served its purpose 
well, and the rapid current soon swung the large 
flatboat over to the other side, and we found our- 
selves in the little town, comfortably located for the 
night at its one hotel. 

Next morning revealed a beautiful, peaceful valley 
with grand mountainous surroundings and a typical 
western town. The dark, treacherous river of the 
night before now danced and sparkled in the sunshine, 
and, as far as the eye could reach, its snakelike form 



22 Posk ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

could be seen winding through the country. It was 
late in the day before we made our next start, as it 
was only about twelve miles to our destination, P'ort 
Lapwai. We arrived there late in the afternoon and 
found five companies of our regiment with the head- 
quarters and band at the little two company post. 
IJut we received a hearty welcome and there seemed 
to be a feeling of safety in numbers, for no one 
minded being " doubled up" and the winter j^assed 
in a most agreeable manner. Every thing was new 
and interesting, and there was a general feeling of 
good fellowship — everyone interested in making the 
time pass pleasantly. 

Housekeeping was little or no trouble, as no one 
had a house to keep. The regulation (piarter allow- 
ance was strictly adhered to. The following verses 
written many years ago, at Fort Sill, Indian Terri- 
tory, by an officer's wife, fully describe the situa- 
tion : 

"ONK ROOM, AND A KITCHEN." 

'• Perhaps it is grand, but I fail to see it, 
To live in a fort as an officer's wife, 
Unless you have rank above a lieutenant 

It's one room and a kitchen the rest of jour life." 

'■ It's all very well to flirt with brass buttons, 
Bui that is not like becomin<; a wife 



From Ocean to Ocean. 23 

With children annoying, your peace of mind destroying, 
In one room and a kitchen to drag out your life. 

" Now, girls, all, take warning in life's early morning, 
Don't iTiarrv until you are twenty or more, 
Then try for rank, a major, or colonel. 

For then you are sure of three rooms, or four." 

Captain Prescott's "allowance" was two small 
rooms, although he was the ranking captain of the 
regiment. 

It required some ingenuity to devise plans to fur- 
nish even these two rooms. We had only our 
trunks ; our household goods were on the road and 
might not be there for six months. All that the 
Post could afford were iron bunks with slats, and 
bedsacks filled with hay. We were soon at work 
on the furniture — dressing table, washstand, etc., 
made up of dry goods boxes and draped with 
bright calico from the "sutler's store," which cost 
as much as silk would in the East — curtains of the 
same material and a couple of barrels sawed into 
the shape of chairs, and upholstered in such a way 
that they seemed a luxury to us. The rest of the 
chairs used were common barrack ones, and we had 
but a few of those. Gray blankets completed our 
comfort in the way of carpets. We had silver in 



24 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

our trunks and plenty of linen, both for table and 
beds, "so we were very cosily settled. This all does 
very well until the novelty wears off — a very agree- 
able picnic — but after doing the same things over for 
years and seeing the same people all the time, as 
some of the army have to do, it becomes slightly 
monotonous. 

In the spring marching orders came for Captain 
Prescott's company to go to Walla-Walla. We were 
delighted. We would be near a nice town and have 
a house to ourselves. Our household goods had 
arrived from the East after a whole winter's delay, 
and at last we were going to be settled. Alas! how 
little we know what is in store for us. The journey 
was more than pleasant. As we were traveling with 
troops, we proceeded by easy marches of about 
twenty miles a day, fished in the clear mountain 
streams for trout, or hunted for prairie chickens, 
which were plentiful all through the country. At 
night, when we camped in some lonely valley, our 
bright camp fires and the cheerful voices of the 
men, made every thing seem "All's well." 

We had been in our new home about one week, 
when, one night, at two o'clock, we were awakened 
by a loud knock. The Captain arose immediately 



From Ocean to Ocean. ' 25 

and asked what was wanted. The familiar voice of 
one of his heutenants, who was acting adjutant, re- 
sponded: " Captain, the company is ordered to join 
infantry at Cayuse Station. The Bannocks and Pi- 
utes are on the warpath." 

There was not a word spoken. Both husband 
and wife reaUzed the sorrow and anxiety that were 
to follow. "Go over to the company, Saunders, 
and start the ball rolling. I will be there in a few 
moments." By nine o'clock the next morning every 
thing was in readiness, and the company passed the 
house with the drum and fife playing "The Girl I 
Left Behind Me." Oh! such parting! such sorrow! 
they are too sacred to be described. To this day 
that tune makes the cold chills run through my 
body. I had met all the officers and ladies of the 
garrison, but they were strangers, and it was like 
being a stranger in a strange land. Next day the 
rest of the ladies were called on to weep with me, 
for the cavalry command, which consisted of three 
troops, was also ordered out — and so we were left, 
a garrison of women, with the doctor, quartermaster 
and band for protection. 

There was no music that summer, nor would any 
one have cared to hear it. The band did the guard 



26 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

duty and all other duty at the forsaken post. These 
were five long months of anxiety and suffering. 
The heat was intense and the hot winds brought 
clouds of alkali dust that covered every thing, so 
that at times every crevice of the house had to be 
closed, and we gasped for breath until the wind 
would subside. The only thing that we had to look 
forward to was news from the front, that was brought 
in by couriers. Sometimes they would get in late at 
night, even toward morning, but the anxious wives 
would be the first to hear the sound of the horses' 
tread, and with aching hearts wait and listen for 
news and letters. 

At one time three weeks i)assed without news. 
All intercourse was cut off by bands of Indians, who 
prevented the couriers from getting through. 1 1 
was a remarkable campaign from the first battle, in 
which their leader, Buffalo Horn, was killed, in that 
so much was accomplished with so little bloodshed. 
The Indians were completely demoralized. After 
the first few fights it was a long, tedious hunt down, 
as one of the officers wrote : " Last year we were on 
the Low-Low trail after the Nez Perces; this year 
we are on the High-High trail, and it looks as if we 
will never come down." Well, every thing has an 



From Ocean to Occiin. 11 

end. Even that dreadful summer, with all its trials, 
was ended, and many of the Bannocks and Piutes 
captured and taken to Fort Harney, Oregon, as 
prisoners. 

There was general rejoicing at Walla- Walla. The 
command was on its way home, in fact, all the 
troops were ordered to their different posts, but 
some, few companies that would be sent to Harney 
to guard the prisoners. At last the day arrived that 
was to make glad so many sad hearts. From early 
morning every cloud of dust was watched with fe- 
verish anxiety, as the advanced sign of the com- 
mand. Finally, there arose what might have been 
taken for a simoon, but we knew what was behind 
it. After a little the cavalry rode into the post, but 
where was the infantry company? Where was 
Captain Prescott ? Perhaps he will be in later, was 
the anxious thought of one silent looker-on. Then 
one of the officers, after seeing the one dearest to 
him, thinks of the one who is alone, and rushes 
over with the postal card that he has been intrusted 
with : 

'■'^Dear Wife: — Only time for a line. I was two 
days on my homeward march when orders were re- 



28 Fosie ; or, From Reveille to Fe treat. 

ceived for me to return to Harney to take charge of 
Indian prisoners. There is nothing left for you to 
do, but join me there. Will come for you if I can 
get a leave. Yours, 

H. J. PRESCOrT." 

" Ordered to Harney, join me there. Will come 
for you, if I can !" All these thoughts coursed 
through the already worn-out brain with lightning 
rapidity. Harney, the most (lod-forsaken post in 
the army, where the mail is taken on snow-shoes in 
winter, and where nothing can grow in summer but 
sage-brush, five hundred miles away, over moun- 
tains and through canons, with roads almost im- 
passable ! To take such a trip in the fall of the 
year with three children, the youngest three month's 
old, seemed an undertaking almost impossible ; but 
impossible as it seemed it was taken, and before 
the month was over. Captain Prescott arrived with 
wagons, ambulance and an escort, to take all that 
was dear to him through a desolate, cold and barren 
country, to a still more desolate post. 

The journey was replete with incidents which were 
interesting, exciting and dangerous. Part of the 
time we were in the country recently raided by the 



From Ocean to Ocean. 29 

Indians, where a few ranches had been, but now 
were heaps of ashes, or charred timbers. One 
ranch was intact in perhaps a radius of a hundred 
miles. An old maid owned it, and lived there with 
a niece and nephew. It was still fortified with 
logs that they happened to have on the place to 
build an addition to their home. The old lady 
said : '^ Years ago I came out here from the East poor, 
with these two young people, determined to make a 
home and have some of the world's goods. We 
have succeeded. We have cattle as it were on a 
thousand hills and have every thing one could desire. 
Hearing the Indians were heading this way, we de- 
termined not to run but stand by our home. You 
see how well we are situated for defense. On this 
pretty hill we could see Indians all around, but, see- 
ing us so well fortified, they imagined we had lots of 
men, but there were only us four — the hired man 
Itesides ourselves — but I tell you we were well 
armed and would have sold our lives dearly." 

After leaving the fortified ranch, it was days be- 
fore we came in sight of a habitation of any kind. 
Once in awhile we would come across a lone sheep- 
herder with his herd, from whom we would buy a 
couple of sheep for our meat supply. What brave 



30 Posie ; or, Frojii Reveille to Retreat. 

men they must be, and what prevents them from be- 
coming maniacs, alone in that solemn stillness, with 
no sound save the tinkle of a sheep bell, the bleat- 
ing of a stray lamb, or, worst of all, their own 
voices, which must sound like hollow mockery in 
that death-like (juiet ? 

After s[)ending a day at a stage station and getting 
thoroughly warmed and comparatively rested, we 
were loth to start through the " cold camp country " 
where nothing grows, not even sage brush, and 
where the wheels would sink in black mud almost 
to the hub. The men would actually have to dig 
the mud from between the spokes so that the mules 
could drag the wagons along. At times we feared 
that we would not be able to get through; but, by 
heroic labor on the part of both man and beast, we 
succeeded in getting over, or rather through, the ten 
miles of "cold camj) country," and about nightfall 
our camp was pitched at the foot of a mountain, the 
ground about as wet as rain and sleet could make it. 
The baby was best off of all. He traveled with his 
tent always pitched — a large clothes basket lined first 
with rubber and then with a down-quilt and a rubber 
canopy, so that he was always dry and comfortable, 
and spent most of his time sleeping or enjoying the 



From Ocean to Ocean. 31 

motion of the ambulance, which was easy, as the 
well padded basket moved with the motion of the 
vehicle. With canvas, rubber blankets, and plenty 
of bedding, we managed to get through the night 
in comparative comfort. Next day a drive of three 
miles up the mountain brought us to a comfortable 
ranch. Oh ! if we could only have known of its ex- 
istence the night before. 

After three weeks of fatigue and hardships of all 
kinds, we found ourselves after dark looking from 
the road above into what seemed a dark, narrow 
canon below. This was Fort Harney. We could 
see the lights from the houses and barracks. We 
could see the Indian camp and the Indians around 
their fires. There is only one place it could be com- 
pared to. It looked like the infernal regions with 
the imps all ready to receive us. The road leading 
down into the valley is so steep that we had to get 
out and walk down, as it was no uncommon thing 
for a wagon to upset. When we arrived at our 
home, which was a large, one-story log house, a 
welcome sight met our eyes : l)right pine wood fires 
glowed on every hearth, and a warm, delightful sup- 
per was soon ready, cooked and served l)y men of 
the company, who were waiting and expecting us. 



32 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

A few miles away the country abounded in game of 
all kinds, so that we were well supplied in that line. 
Daylight improved the looks of the valley very 
little; it was so narrow and deep that the rocks 
seemed to be hanging right over the quarters, and, as 
you looked month after month across it, you could al- 
most imagine it was gradually getting narrower, and 
that sometime the mountains would come together. 
Well, there is this comfort about it ; no army people 
will have to suffer there again. Harney is aban- 
doned and given over to prowling coyotes and other 
like beasts, which alone ought to be doomed to such 
a retreat. There were two troops of cavalry and 
two companies of infantry to guard the seven hun- 
dred and fifty Indian prisoners. This was not a very 
hard task, as they were docile enough after their 
summer's escapade. The long, cold winter was 
near at hand. They were well fed and better off 
than if on their own responsibility. They were bet- 
ter satisfied than the Government seemed to be, how- 
ever, for in January, when the thermometer was 
nine degrees below zero, an order came for all of the 
prisoners to be sent to a reservation several hundred 
miles distant. This was a great shock and surprise 
to them, and it meant suffering and death to many, 



From Ocean to Ocean. 33 

as they were poorly clad for such a trip. They were 
sent off, ahiiost immediately, in charge of the two 
troops of cavalry. It was heartrending to see the 
poor creatures go, many old women and very young 
children in the outfit. Captain Prescott did all in 
his power to alleviate their suffering by issuing 
blankets on his own responsibility, but even this 
could not prevent untold suffering and many deaths. 
There were one hundred and fifty well-armed 
" bucks " camped about one mile from the post, who 
had been sent there to be under military supervision, 
but were not considered military prisoners, as it was 
not certain that they had taken part in the war. 
Two days after the prisoners had left, an order came 
fjr them to be sent off too. They had watched the 
other poor creatures go and had been rejoicing that 
they were not to be among the number. 

Captain Prescott sent for their chiefs and principal 
men and read the order which was interpreted to 
them by Princess Sarah Winnemucca. They sat 
around in a circle, sullen and defiant, and vowed 
they would rather die where they were than on the 
road or in a new country. Not a whiff did they 
take from their pipes, but, in an excited manner, 
muttered to each other and glared at the officers 



34 Posie ; or, Fnmi Reveille to Retreat. 

and Sarah, as if at any moment they might strike 
for liberty. 

Sarah was the daughter of old Chief Winnemucca, 
who had always been friendly to the whites, and 
who had kept his peoi)le at peace until this out- 
break. Sarah married a white man and was edu- 
cated in a convent, but soon returned to her former 
life. She was a queer combination, having many 
of the traits of the savage and showing the decided 
effects of education and civilization. She had many 
excellent (jualities, and was exceedingly entertain- 
ing. She dressed in clothes elaborately trimmed 
with furs, trinkets, etc., but her special pride was 
the riding habit. 

The Government employed her as interpreter at a 
salary of seventy-five dollars a month. She had been 
a guide and scout during the entire campaign. She 
addressed the chiefs in a proud, defiant air ; told 
them it was for the good of //^r people — the Piutes- — 
that she endured the hardships and dangers of the 
war, so as to bring them back to their country and 
not have them renegades, likely on Canada soil, and 
did not expect in return for it the air of mistrust 
they assumed ; that it was best for them to obey the 
order, for, if they rebelled, it would only end in 



From Ocean to Ocean. 35 

more sorrow and suffering. Captain Prescott told 
tliem that they could have two hours to go back to 
their camp, talk to their people, and make up their 
minds to obey the order. We could see them, al- 
most immediately after their return to camp, round- 
ing up their ponies, which was construed at once as 
an intention on their part " to clear out." "Assem- 
bly " sounded, and the two companies of infantry 
fell in, and, in shorter time than I could write it, 
they were off for the camp. 

The action on the part of the troops was so quick 
and the Indians were so immediately surrounded, 
that they were too surprised to know what to do. 
Their arms and ponies were captured, so that there 
was no trouble after that in getting them off. It was 
an exciting scene to those at the post, who watched 
the infantry as it advanced on the camp of the angry 
Indians ; several times we imagined we saw a flash 
as the sun shone on the bayonets. If our teeth 
chattered or limbs refused to hold us up, it was not 
to be wondered at. 

A courier was sent to overtake and halt the cav- 
alry and prisoners, so the infantry had only to turn 
their prisoners over to the cavalry and then return to 
Harney for the rest of tlie winter. 



36 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

Although the time dragged slowly along now, there 
was a hope in our hearts of a change before long, 
for Captain Prescott was on the eve of his promotion, 
and in June the glad news came which delivered us 
from exile, even if it was to go to Arizona. 

We lost no time by delay, and felt in good shape 
to take the trip ; the children were well and strong, 
and the three months' old baby that we liad taken to 
Harney was now strong enough to stand almost any 
fatigue. 

From the cold, bracing climate of Oregon we 
found ourselves in a {^w weeks on the arid deserts 
of Arizona, breathing and almost stifling in the dust 
that was thrown into the ambulance by the wind 
that always seemed to blow in the wrong direction. 
The water was strong alkali, and the children all got 
sick. We stopped at Yuma for a rest. Hearing 
that there were two hotels in the town, the Major 
asked a man which was the better. " Oh ! ii does 
not make any difference," he replied, "whichever 
one you go to, you will wish that you had gone to 
the other." We had rooms assigned to us, but the 
heat was so intense that we merely used them for 
toilet purposes, coming out at night to sleep on the 
porch, where a long line of cots was stretched side 



From Ocean to Ocean. 



37 




WHITE RIVER, ARIZONA. 



38 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

by side. We were fortunate in having ours a little 
to one side, but not so far that we could not hear the 
snores from the various exhausted occupants of the 
other beds. From across the narrow street we 
could hear the half-awake Mexicans with their 
"Que calor ! Dios mio ! " Off at a little distance 
came the sounds of a Mexican bailie, while, still 
further away, the Indians were trying to make night 
more liidcous beating their tom toms, yelling and 
whooping. 

I'ort Yuma is just one mile from the town. It, 
like I'^ort Harney, has been abandoned. There is 
an old, old army story, about-a soldier wiio died at 
Fort Yuma and, being very wicked, went to the 
place of the doomed. Some time afterward his spirit 
appeared asking for his blankets. It was too cold 
tliere for him after having been stationed at Yuma ! 

When we arrived at Fort Apache, with its good 
water and fine climate, we made up our minds to 
make the best of it, give up all idea of the outside 
world, and be as happy as it was possible to be un- 
der such circumstances. We had good horses, 
several cows, plenty of chickens, fine gardens and 
quantities of game, so, as far as comforts were con- 
cerned, we were well off 



Fort Apache. 39 



CHAPTER II. 



FORT APACHE. 



Two of the most uneventful, and at the same 
time eventful, years of my life, were spent at Fort 
Apache, Arizona. Uneventful, because we were 
four or five hundred miles from every body and 
every thing, got our mail by buckboard once a week, 
then relapsed into our usual monotonous life, read 
and re-read our letters, exchanged papers, maga- 
zines, etc., with our friends, and discussed the topics 
of the day (two or three weeks old). 

You will also see by the little account of our so- 
journ there, that life was not without excitement 
and danger. 

Fort Apache was (and still is) situated in a narrow 
valley in the heart of the White Mountains, and in 
the very midst of the treacherous Apache Indians. 
On one side were high rugged mountains, with foot- 
hills that approached almost up to the soldiers' 
quarters, covered with juniper trees and rocks, 
great and small, that had fallen from the cliffs above 



40 Posie ; or, From Reveille' to Retreat. 

or remained in place after all the earth had been 
washed away by the action of the floods, that de- 
scend in violent force down its rough sides. On 
the opposite side from the mountains, about one 
hundred feet back of "The Officers' Row," was a 
canon, over two hundred feet deep, through which 
the White River flowed — a clear little mountain 
stream, from whicli ilie post derived its water supply. 
Beyond the canon was another valley, then again 
the mountains, towering up in endless confusion. 

There was a gradual descent from the fort into the 
large, open, fertile valley in the third direction, 
where the post gardens were located. Here the 
canon ended, but the little stream rushed on, full of 
fine trout and shaded by cottonwood and willow 
trees, and forming the most peaceful and picturesque 
scenery, while in the opposite direction, the canon 
continued to yawn and the mountains and foot hills 
encroach, until there was little else of the valley left, 
but a miserable road, or mountain pass. The valleys 
for miles around were filled with Indians camping 
and planting corn. It had been their custom, from 
time immemorial, to spend the summer months in the 
mountains and return to the lower country in winter. 
'J'here was always more or less dread of them, and 



Fort Apache. 



41 




WHITE RIVER CANON. 



42 Fosic ; or, From Revfille to Retreat. 

we never felt particularly safe when away from the 
post, although we often visited their various camps 
and watched their dances, etc. In August their 
"Green Corn" dance occurred, the ceremonies be- 
ing very interesting. This year, of which I write, 
they were unusually exciting. There appeared in 
their midst a Medicine Man (Nockadelcline), who 
claimed that he could raise the dead — a shrewd ras- 
cal, with a power as absolute as if he really was 
what he claimed to be. 

The season was an unusually fruitful one. In 
every direction could l)e seen their fields, ahnost 
bending with the weight of the grain. Of ( ourse, 
with the prospect of such large crops, they were not 
careful of their old sui)ply of corn and made large quan- 
tities of I'izwin, their native drink, whidi looks much 
like dirty buttermilk, and after starving themselves 
for two or three days, they drank large (piantities 
and became very hilarious. Things were assuming 
a very serious aspect around us. We could hear the 
sound of their tom-toms day and night, and although 
few of them now came into the post, we were well 
informed of their meetings. Nockadelcline exacted 
large rewards from them for his services, such as 
money, blankets and ponies. At last he announced 



Fort Apiii/ir. 43 

that their dead warriors were alive up to their waists, 
and that the only way he could complete the resur- 
rection was, for all the white people to leave the 
country. Of course, this to their already frenzied 
minds meant the war ])ath. The commanding officer 
of the fort, appreciating the dangerous condition of 
affairs, sent for Nockadelcline and some of the lead- 
ing warriors to come in and have a talk, thinking 
that he could quiet them ; but instead of coming, 
they moved their field of operations to the Cibicu, 
about fifty miles distant. 

Then every one was more excited than ever, and 
rumors of war and danger came in from every direc- 
tion. Finally, our gallant colonel decided to go 
after Nockadelcline and bring him back, a prisoner, 
to the fort, and in this way, if possible, save the 
lives and homes of the many settlers throughout the 
country. The command consisted of two troops of 
cavalry, one company of infantry, and one company 
of Apache Indian scouts, the latter commanded by 
one of the young officers. The colonel started off 
with the cavalry and scouts, leaving the infantry 
company to guard the fort. There was not one in 
the command that left, nor one in the little command 



44 Posic ; or, /''nuii Rivcillc to Retreat. 

that remained behind, who did not have grave ap- 
prehensions for the future. 

Only a few hours after the command left, Indians 
began following. They would pass through the fort, 
mounted and "armed to the teeth," twenty at a 
time, until it became so appalling that the officer 
who was now in command decided to send a courier 
to warn the colonel, one to warn the settlers living 
in the vicinity of the fort, one to bring in two 
soldiers who were in charge of the Black River fer- 
ry, twenty miles away, and one to go through to the 
nearest telegrapli station with a dispatch, asking the 
commanding general for re-enforcements. Then the 
next im|)ortant thing to do was to repair the dam 
which had been washed away in a recent flood. 
The water was low in the reservoir, and the only 
way it could be replenished was by means of the 
pump from the little river near the post. Major 
Prescott was superintending a number of men, 
whom he had at work, when Mosby, a notorious 
young chief, rode up with a band of warriors, all 
with their rifles lying across their horses and ready 
for action. In the most defiant way they rode over 
part of the work just completed. Major Prescott 
called out to Mosby, saying: "Come right back, 



Fort A louche. 



45 




46 Posie ; or, From Rrceille to Retreat. 

you and your men, and don't you dare to do that 
again." They stopped a moment, hesitated, and 
looked straight into his eyes. " I mean it," said 
Major Prescott. They retraced their steps and went 
off in another direction. For two days we all suf- 
ferred untold anxiety. About eleven o'clock of the 
second night, a Mexican, who had an Indian wife, 
and who had always lived with the Indians, came 
into the fort and reported that all of the " Nantans" 
(officers) and most of the soldiers had been killed, 
and that those left needed aid from the fort. The 
officers at once decided that the Mexican was a spy, 
and that it was only a trap laid to get the infantry 
into ambush and massacre them, so they again sent 
for the fellow to (question him, but he had disap- 
j)eared, although at first he said that he had come 
in for protection. Every precaution had been taken 
to defend the fort, and an isolated set of quarters 
had been prepared with food, water, arms, and am- 
munition for our final retreat, where we hoped, with 
our fifty soldiers, a few citizens (and the women 
and children), to hold out until rescue could come 
to us. 

Our greatest fear and anxiety now was for the cav- 
alry command, for they had the roughest kind of 



Fort Apache. 47 

country to go through and luindreds of well armed 
Indians to contend with. In the morning of the 
third day the telegraph Operator volunteered to 
go up to a high point of a mountain near by, 
where he could command a view of the narrow 
pass to the north, through which the troops had gone, 
and signal down if he could see any thing of the 
command. Pickets were thrown out along his course 
to defend him if possible. At last, after an hour or 
more of waiting he signaled that "he could see 
two horseman advancing, but did not know if they 
were friends or foes." Then, after another interval 
of waiting, that "the command was in sight." My 
dear reader, can you realize how we all felt ! Can 
you imagine what were the hopes and fears of those 
wives who had been waiting two days and nights, 
without sleep ! The moments seemed like hours 
now, for the command was still quite a distance off. 
Finally, the two horsemen that the operator first saw 
rode up to the commanding officer's quarters, where 
many were waiting in feverish anxiety and listened 
with throbbing hearts to the report of the sergeant 
to the commanding officer. 

" The colonel has sent me on ahead to report the 
result of the fight. The scouts turned against us 



48 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

and joined the other Indians. Captain • and 

eight men have been killed. Nockadelcline and 
many Indians lie dead on the field. The rest of the 
command are all right, with the exception of one 
soldier, mortally wounded." Then another hour 
passed, and we watched them come in, two on ahorse 
in some cases, as many of their animals had been 
killed, and the soldier who had been mortally wounded 
was laying across his horse dead. 

" Home they brouglit her warrior dead ; 
She nor swoon'd nor uttered cry. 
All her maidens watching said, 
She must weep or she will die. 

Then they praised him, soft and low, 

Called him worthy to be loved, 
Truest friend and noblest foe ; 

Yet she neither spoke nor moved. 

Stole a maiden from her place, 

Lightly to the warrior slept. 
Took the face cloth from the face ; 

Yet she neither moved nor wept. 

Rose a nurse of ninety years, 

Set his child upon her knee — 
Like summer tempest came her tears — 

' Sweet, my child, I live for thee.' " 

In a few hours we could see the Indians begin- 
ning to appear in the vicinity again. A strong 



Fort Apache. 49 

picket line was now thrown around the entire post, 
and we felt comparatively safe, with our numbers so 
much increased. 

As night approached, we knew we had nothing 
to fear again until morning, as the Apaches are 
miserable cowards, afraid of darkness and ghosts. 
Nothing would tempt them out at night. Early 
next morning, we could see hundreds of them down 
in the valley, at the gardens, killing cattle, and hav- 
ing a war-dance. Then the garden houses were 
fired, and altogether it was any thing but a cheerful 
spectacle. We were now in a perfect state of siege, 
entirely cut off from the rest of the world — the 
telegraph wires down, the rivers swolen. We did 
not know whether five hundred or five thousand 
Indians surrounded us, or whether the couriers had 
succeeded in getting through with the dispatches 
asking for aid. About ten o'clock, an armed body 
of men was sent to the grave-yard, a short distance 
from the fort, to dig graves. They had no sooner 
arrived there than they were met with a perfect fusi- 
lade from the hills near by. They at once retreated, 
firing as fast as they could reload, and all got 
back safely. This was evidently a signal for the 
attack on the fort, which was now begun in earnest. 



50 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

Across the canon, in the valley, were some old 
adobe ruins, which afforded them good shelter. 
From this point they kept up a continual firing. 
The bullets would whiz past, but we were well 
protected. At this time, our youngest child was 
four weeks old. There were large adobe chimneys 
in the house. The children, during the fight, were 
all made to sit or lie near one of these fire places, as 
they afforded a perfect breastwork against the bullets. 
Our house was the only two-story building in the 
fort (the rest of the officers' quarters were one-story 
log houses, with low roofs). The day of our arrival 
at the |)ost, as we passed a set of these quarters 
that had been partly built, Florida remarked, " Oh, 
mamma, that must be the pigs' house." From one 
of the upstairs windows of our house, I commanded 
a view of the entire fight, watched my husband un- 
der fire for an hour or more, listened to the whiz of 
the enemies' bullets and to the deafening storm from 
our own men. I could see the Indians trying to 
make a nearer point, where they would have better 
breastworks, see our men blaze away and the Indians 
turn and seek cover, but not so in all cases, for I saw 
one of them throw up his arms and drop from his 
horse, as if dead. 



Fort Apache. 51 

There was a sentinel at our door day and night. 
I told him never to let the children, nor myself, be 
taken by Indians. He well knew my meaning, and 
I felt confident as I looked into his brave, deter- 
mined countenance, that he would do his duty nobly 
it the time should come. There was a calmness of 
desperation that seemed to settle over me, a calm- 
ness that can only come on such occasions. It is 
then that the soul knows itself, and communes with 
its God, feeling that at any moment it may be sum- 
moned into his presence. There was little or no 
sleep for any one. Every few hours there was a new 
skirmish. An Indian had only to come in range for 
the whole picket line to blaze away. The men were 
excited and mad over the loss of their comrades, so 
any Indian they got a chance at shared a hard fate. 

The fourth night every thing seemed quiet, and 
those not on guard were trying to snatch what sleep 
they could, when, bang, bang, went a perfect fusil- 
lade, and the shrill notes of the bugle, which were 
almost drowned by the firing. Then almost in an 
instant the whole fort seemed ablaze. I surely 
thought that the end had now come, and as the men 
rushed out to extinguish the burning set of quarters, 
expected to see them shot down as they ran, but the 



52 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

enemy had withdrawn for the night, and no further 
loss was encountered save the one wooden building, 
which was burned to the ground. 

The fifth day was comparatively quiet ; only an 
occasional alarm. The Indians, seeing that they 
could do us but little harm, saved their ammunition 
and amused themselves cavorting around out of bul- 
let range, and gorging themselves on the settlers' 
cattle. About eleven that night we could hear a dis- 
turbance and noise on the top of the mountain, back 
of the soldiers' quarters, from which point a narrow 
trail led into the fort. Every one thought that the 
Indians had awakened from their fear and supersti- 
tion, and that we were in for a night attack. There 
seemed great indecision from those above as to what 
they should do, although there were, evidently, large 
numbers. Every man below was on the alert, wait- 
ing and watching. They only wanted a signal to 
blaze away. Finally, .some one suggested re-inforce- 
ments and the bugle sounded its loudest call. Then, 
from above, almost as a voice from heaven, came 
the welcome return notes and we knew that friends 
were coming. The pass was so narrow, steep and 
rough, that it was almost impossible for the horses 
to be brought down, but they had come by trail as 



Fori Apache. 53 

it was the shortest way to reach us. From the brow 
of the mountain, they could see the smoldering ruins 
of the garden-houses. Large amounts of grain had 
been stored there, by contractors, which kept the 
fire briglit for many days. The Indian guides in- 
sisted that it was the site of the fort, and that 
every one had been killed and every thing burned. 
The soldiers had almost to push them along to make 
them go further, as they said all of these soldiers 
would be killed too, and they wanted to turn back. 
This was the cause of the confusion that we heard, as 
they insisted that they would not descend into the 
valley. Our joy was great at seeing them march in, 
but, if possible, theirs was greater at finding us alive. 

They said nothing could describe their feelings 
when looking on the smoldering ruins, and believing 
that it was all that was left of those they had known 
and loved. They had determined to push forward 
into even the jaws of death until they found out the 
fate of those whom they had come to rescue, for 
even if the command had been massacred, some of 
the women and children might be alive and prisoners. 

Of all the couriers sent out only one got through. 
The road was lined with dead bodies for miles ; . 
every one had been killed who happened on it those 



54 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

few fatal days. The two soldiers at the ferry were 
also lying dead. The weather being very hot the 
stench from the unburied bodies was something 
dreadful. In a very few days large bodies of troops 
began to come in from other parts of the territory, 
and from New Mexico, and we had nothing more to 
fear. The outbreak was fully ijuelled and some of 
the principal leaders captured, among them " Dead- 
shot," who was afterward tried by civil court and 
hanged. We found out from Indians afterward that 
the whole affair was a premeditated one to massacre 
the cavalry command, and then capture the fort and 
torture and kill those they took prisoners. It was a 
well laid plan but j>oorly executed. 



On the Alanli. 55 



CHAPTER III. 



ON THE MARCH. 



The outbreak at Fort Apache had been quieted, and 
the majority of the Indians subdued for the time 
being, but many of the renegades were still at large 
and away out of reach of the troops, perhaps wan- 
dering in very small parties, even alone, then as- 
sembling at a given place where the foot of white 
man had never trod; or, again, lying concealed 
among the rocks of some near mountain, watching 
the road and the troops as they pass on their home- 
ward march, and being fed by the conquered ^^ood 
Indians who are now drawing rations from Uncle 
Sam. 

Only two weeks had passed since the whole coun- 
try was tn the hands of the murderous assassins. 
Major Prescott was ordered to change station from 
that point, and started on a three hundred miles' 
journey with his family and an escort of ten men. 
The first three days' march was in company with 
seven troops of cavalry on their return to New 



56 Posic ; pr, From Reveille to Retreat. 




.MAKIA FRANCISCO. 



On tJic Manh. 57 

Mexico. All was jolly and lively. At night it 
made an immense camp, and the large, bright fires 
lighted up the valleys and mountain sides, which 
made a beautiful picture , but when the cavalry 
branched off in one direction, and our little ])arty 
in another, things seemed to appear m a different 
light. 

Our first afternoon in camp alone, we were visited 
by squaws whose bucks we knew were still outlaws, 
and quite likely these were the very ones who had 
helped to do the scalping and torturing. Among 
them was Maria Francisco, whom we all knew well 
at Fort Apache. She had been a frequent visitor to 
our front porch, and was happy when she could 
carry off discarded clothing or food. She would 
always say : " No tengo nada que maiz." She had 
quite a history. When a little child she was taken 
from a Mexican village which the Apaches had 
captured. They murdered all of the Mexicans with 
the exception of Maria, whom they brought up as 
an Indian. She luid never forgotten the dreadful 
scenes nor her native tongue; in every other re- 
spect she was an Indian, and had an Indian hus- 
band, children and grand children. I said to her, 
in Mexican: "Well, Maria, you did not get a 



58 Posic ; or. From Reveille to Retreat 

chance to scalp us, did you ?" The tears ahnost 
ranie to her eyes as she looked at me. " You, 
senora ! You and the commandante ! No Apache 
Indian would harm any thing that is his. He 
heap cross, but never lies. Mosby said that 
if he had been any other " nanton " he would 
have killed him, the day before the fight, when 
he was near the fort, fixing the dam, and the 
commandante drove him off. Mosby is a bad In- 
dian, he has a bad heart. Dandy Jim he 'nother 
bad boy. He and Mosby always together. Mucho 
malo ! mucho malo!" 

They all sat around and ate as much as we would 
give them. We did not pretend to satisfy their 
hunger, as they will eat enough at one time to last 
them three days, if they can get it. They looked 
so quiet and repentant that it was hard to believe 
that they would do the same thing over again at the 
very first opportunity. 

After a {qw days of hard work — for traveling in 
far-off Arizona means work— we were in the heart 
of the "Mai Pais" (Bad Lands), which are one 
vast mountain and dale of lava-beds. From this 
time on our journey was particularly trying, for the 
roads, if roads they could be called, were almost im- 



On the March. 



59 




DANDY JIM. 



60 Posie ; or, From Rtveillc to Ri treat. 

passable. On the seventh day the breaking down 
of the wagon which contained our bed and board 
delayed us for many hours, and it was not until 
sunset that we found ourselves on the summit of 
the MogoUon Mountains and near some "water 
holes," or wells. These are natural cisterns in the 
rocks, full of pure, clear rain-water. They are re- 
plenished once a year during the rainy season, whicli 
is in July or August — Arizona's spring. 

Then the whole country blossoms forth for a short 
time only to be blighted and burned up again for 
another year. These ])laces are few and far between 
and the weary traveler has to make his camping 
grounds wherever they are to be found. Sometimes 
they may be fifty miles from the ones he camped at 
the night before, and the only water to be had. Near 
the Mogollon wells stood an old stone house, like a 
silent sentinel, faithful and grim. It was built for 
the noted " Star Route," which was supposed-to pass 
through that section, though the (piestion was, to 
whom were the mails carried? But the Govern- 
ment's money was not all spent in vain, for the house 
served a double purpos.;, shelter for the traveler and 
wood to cook his food — all of the doors and windows 
having been used as fuel. 



On the March. 61 

The country was als silent as the sentinel. There 
was something appalling in the grandeur of the scen- 
ery. As far as the eye could reach there seemed to 
to be a sea of mighty mountains, while the vicinity 
showed evidence of volcanic fires, with vast beds of 
lava forming innumerable shapes, fantastic and real. 
One could walk through what seemed to be an im- 
mense field of small rooms, with walls as perfect as 
if only waiting to have the roof adjusted. Here was 
the place of all places for the children, and they im- 
mediately went to " housekeeping," playing "Swiss 
Family Robinson," and insisting on staying indefi- 
nitely there, for never would there be such play 
houses again. 

Every thing was of a somber hue. It seemed as 
if the Creator had cursed the country. Even the 
lizards and horned toads, the only living creatures, 
were like the country, gray, dull and bloodless. 

Old Sol appeared grander than ever, and the only 
reminder of a better land and better days. But 
when he sank behind those grim specters it seemed 
as if they began watching in foreboding silence for 
an untimely fate to our small command. 

The soldiers made our abode comfortable for the 
night by nailing blankets up at the windows, and 



62 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 




ARIZONA SCENERY. 



On the March. 63 

starling a cheery blaze in the two fire places, which 
were in opposite corners of the large, uncanny room. 
A tent was pitched with the flap opening in front of 
one fire-place, thus giving the children and myself a 
private, comfortable room. Supper was cooked on 
the other fire. The men who were not on guard 
rolled up in their blankets on the dirt floor and soon 
forgot their cares. Our little ones were as sweetly 
sleeping as if in their own beds at home, but there 
was no rest for me. I was exhausted; the weird 
place oppressed me, and the " sad, uncertain rustling 
of each ' wooly curtain ' thrilled me, filled me with 
fantastic terrors never felt before ;'' but to still the 
beating of my heart, I kept repeating, " 'tis the wind 
and nothing more." 

The long, dark hours crept on at a snail's pace, 
but as the dawn of day approached I heard the step 
of the sentry coming to the tent and the low words, 
"Major, the mules are gone!" followed by a stern 
voice asking how long they had been missed ? and 
the respectful reply, " They were all there, sir, a short 
time ago; they just disappeared like a flash." The 
rest of the command were awake in an instant, and 
speedily organized into a search party, for we feared 
the treacherous Indians had run off the stock. With- 



64 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

out our precious mules, and over a hundred miles still 
to cover, we would have been stranded. After pro- 
longed suspense, one of the soldiers brought in the 
news that he had by mere chance discovered one 
mule which lead to his finding the rest. They were 
not far off, but owing to the roughness of the country, 
he had passed the place several times without seeing 
them, as they were hidden in that vast lava forma- 
tion. With the animals safe, our next thought was 
for the search party. Nothing could be. seen of 
them, so the Major ordered three of the five men 
wlio had been left in camp to take their rides, climb 
to high points designated near by, and fire into the 
air to attract attention. The firing had the desired 
effect, for, in a short time, they were all in, though 
one soldier had lost his bearings and said the shots 
were most welcome guides. 

We were late starting on that day's journey, but 
one of the men who had been over the road several 
years before said there were "water holes" about 
ten miles away; so we broke camp with l)right pros- 
pects. 

The "going" was so rough that the wheels of the 
ambulance did not seem to touch the ground for 
miles, but jumped from rock to rock. The children 



On the March. 65 

were laughing and joking, seeming rather to enjoy 
the bumping and shaking up they were getting, when, 
quick as a flash, Florida leaned out of the window 
just as the ambulance gave a terrible lurch, and out 
she went under the wheels. It was all so quickly 
done that we scarcely realized what was the matter. 
The Major called to the driver, "Stop the mules! 
Stop the mules!" Our Chinese servant, who was 
in front with the driver, seized his gun, exclaiming, 
"Heap Injin ! Heap Injin ! " as we jumped out. 
We could see lying in a heap among the rocks, our 
darling. The Major soon had her in his strong arms, 
and we poured water on her head and called her 
name again and again. Then the dark eyes opened 
and her lips began to move. "Oh, Papa, I did not 
mean to lean out so far ! " The driver of the wagon 
behind said, as we all stood around her, " I reined 
up my mules and turned my head just as I thought 
the wheel was going over her — I could not see little 
Florida killed." A large rock had evidently turned 
the wheel out of its course, and, by the position she 
lay in, we could see that her escape was a miracle. 
She was only stunned, and after a short time was 
bright and strong again. 

We all concluded that it would be more comfort- 



66 Fosie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

able to walk than be knocked around in the am- 
bulance; so we picked our way along for several 
miles. This gave us a better chance to view the 
peculiar and beautiful scenery. Before that our 
eyes had been fi.\cd on the wheels of our convey- 
ance, which threatened to be wrenched off at any 
moment, and we had gruesome anticipations of being 
hurled into the dee|) chasm wliich skirted the rocky 
road. 

On the opposite side the mountains assumed shapes 
that I can only describe as a giant city one might see 
in a dream. Most jieculiar, most astounding! The 
action of water, or some unknown power, had given 
them the shape of fortresses and castles. Great 
towers and abutments of every conceivable shape 
jutted out in the most unexpected places. They 
were perfectly perpendicular from the top to the bot- 
tom of the canon. The formation was of red stone 
and earth, which varied from bright red to yellow, 
and gave the whole a magnificent appearance. 

The men took turns in carrying the baby, but the 
other children, though young, had marched along in 
true soldier style. The road now becoming a little 
smoother we were glad to seek refuge again in the 
ambulance. All seemed to take fresh courage, and 



On the March. 67 

even the mules held up their heads. Descending 
into a valley, the juniper and scrub oak began to 
appear, making a litde relief from the hot sun and 
bare rocks. The prospect of the wells with plenty 
of water, only a few more miles to travel over a 
much better road, and a good dinner at the end, 
rough as it would be, made us almost happy. 

Our road now ran on the pebbly bottom of a dis- 
possessed river, the grave of a torrent of the moun- 
tains. Those familiar with travel in Arizona never 
camp near these banks, but seek higher ground, as 
there is no knowing when a wall of water, perhaps 
ten feet high, may rush through, carrying every 
thing before it. Such had evidently been the case 
in this insiance, for, as we reached our destination, 
we were appalled to find the wells filled with sand 
and stones instead of water. Our canteens were 
empty, as we had kept drinking from them during 
the heat of the day, thinking we would find plenty 
of water at the wells. We were confronted by a dry 
camp, and that, in arid Arizona, means untold suf- 
fering. 

It was late in the day, and, although thirsty, worn 
out and discouraged, we pushed on in search of 
water. The grandeur of the scenery had lost all in- 



68 Posie ; or, From Ret'cille to Retreat. 

terest, and no one seemed to see any thing but the road 
and the best way to get over it in the shortest time. 
Our progress was slow, as the mules began to show 
their fatigue and thirst. Darkness overtook us, and 
on reaching a point where the road forked, it was 
decided (after exploring with matches) to try our 
luck on the left-hand one. As we branched off, 
one of the soldiers fired into the air as a signal to 
those behmd. IJeing un[)repared for the startling 
sound, I was thoroughly frightened, and in great 
alarm drew the children close to me, fearing an In- 
dian attack. Extreme fatigue and overstrung nerves 
make cowards of us all, but my fears were set at 
rest on learning the cause of the shot. 

After bumping along for several miles we found 
to our dismay that the road had given out. We 
had taken the wrong one ! There was nothing to 
do but to camp where wc were and retrace our steps 
when morning returned. This is what is meant in 
the army by a " dry camp." It also means nothing 
to eat, and one must have the experience to appre- 
ciate such a situation. The tents were soon pitched, 
and there was only a feeling of gratitude in our 
souls. The fatigue and hardships seemed nothing 
as we watched the four little slumberers, who were 



On the March. 69 

too tired to even care for supper. Florida was the 
picture of health, and even the dust which had to 
stay on her face for lack of water could not hide the 
beauty of her rosy cheeks. Think of what that 
night might have been to us if the little form had 
been cold in death ! 

Early next morning, Kelly, one of the men 
who had gotten possession of something stronger 
than Arizona water (although that is strong enough 
sometimes), was seen digging with a spade. On 
being asked by one of his comrades what he was 
doing, he replied, fervently: " I 'm digging a well !" 
Intense thirst, added to his muddled senses, drove 
him to that pass where he was ready to do 
any thing for the sake of a drink of water. Tired 
and forlorn as the men felt, they all joined in a 
hearty laugh at his expense, and called that camp 
" Kelly's Wells." It was a most beautiful spot. 
The juniper trees looked fresh and green, and cool 
untrodden paths led in and out of what seemed like 
a park, but, alas ! no cool stream bubbled past. 

Off at a little distance we saw a herd of antelope 
which seemed bent on finding out what we were 
about. Havmg no fear of man, they would come 
nearer and nearer as if full of curiosity. As we all 



70 Posie ; or. From Rezrille to Relrcai. 

knew that antelope could be found only near water, 
we were delighted to make their acquaintance, and 
started on our return trip with fresh hope in our 
hearts. 

Taking the right hand road this time we kept on 
for a couple of miles, climbing a steep hill. What a 
sight met our eyes as we reached the top ! Off in 
the valley, a short distance, were apparently the 
same antelope, (piietly drinking from a beautiful 
lake! It was formed on the same principle as the 
other wells, but on a grander scale. With a rousing 
cheer from the men, and a feeling of intense thank- 
fulness that relief was so near, we rapidly made our 
way to that blessed lake, feeling as if we could drain 
it to its depths. The Major speedily decided to 
spend the entire day in this haven of rest, where with 
good shade, fine grass and plenty of water, the 
command was happy. The men went to work with 
a vim which comes with content, for we vvere 
evidently going to have a picnic. Some pitched the 
tents, others secured wood with which to prepare the 
breakfast, while others, with their guns, went after 
the herd of antelope. Bang, bang, was heard in a 
short time, and then we could see our dinner being 
borne to camp in the shai)e of two large, fat antelopes, 



On the March. 71 

which the men proceeded immediately to prepare. 
What a repast we had that day ! I doubt if Del- 
monico ever served one that tasted better — bar- 
becued antelope, canned tomatoes, corn and po- 
tatoes, coffee and yeast powder biscuits! There 
was no wind, so it was doubly enjoyable, to get the 
meal free from dust. 

Being refreshed and strengthened we covered 
about fifty miles on the two following days — agam 
jolting over roads with, at times, but little wheel 
space, and clinging like flies to narrow trails, flanked 
on one side by frowning peaks and on the other by 
the perilous edge of a yawning canon. 

Winding along into the Verde Valley, the pre- 
historic home of the Cliff" Dwellers, we camped m 
the vicinity of Montezuma's Well, one of the most 
noted in the territory. It lies at the base of a per- 
pendicular cliff, with the opening of the dwelling 
just over it. The occupants could come down on a 
ladder, procure water, and on their return drag up 
the ladder after them, thus making their peculiar 
home secure against intruders. 

We did not tarry long here, however, for we 
were nearing civilization. Before many days the 
faint notes of a bugle came floatmg to our ears, and 



72 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

we were soon within sight of our new home. That 
first ghmpse of the quarters, the parade ground and 
the flag, made Whipple Barracks seem most at- 
tractive aftei days of " roughing it." 

We were soon settled in our cosy quarters. 
Whipple Barracks was an ideal western post — a 
large command of infantry with headquarters and 
band, besides department headquarters and a busy 
little town only two miles away, or, perhaps, not 
quite so far, with many nice people who made it 
agreeable for the army jieople. There was a con- 
tinual round of gayety, luncheons, dinners and hops, 
which were an agreeable change from our long 
quiet. The officers would meet often at our house, 
smoke and discuss various subjects. The older ones 
often turned to the war and their many experiences. 
Howard was always wild to be where he could hear 
them. 

One evening, their discussion was rather severe 
on some points in regard to reconstruction days, 
Ku-Klux, etc. Major Prescott remarked, as he lay 
back in a large easy chair, smoking his cigar : 
"Those, indeed, were days that tried men's souls; 
still, there were silver linings to even some of those 
dark clouds. I shall never forget a trip that we 



On the March. 73 

took into northern Florida soon after our marriage. 
My company was then stationed in St. Augustine 
and was ordered to act as escort and guard to the 
United States marshal during the election. There 
was a large Republican majority, but the negro 
vote was not counted. Many murders had been 
committed, and the marshal did not care to go un- 
protected. I knew the trip would be a trying one, 
but as my wife insisted, I allowed her to go along. 

"At the terminus of the railroad we were still fifty 
miles from our destination. The train landed us in 
a pine barren, with nothing else in sight but a mis- 
erable one room station of rough boards and logs ; 
a number of negroes engaged working for the rail- 
road, and a few others lazily lounging on a pile of 
cross-ties, in great good humor, watching the sol- 
diers. Off among the pines were a few ' razor-back ' 
hogs that scampered away at the least noise as swiftly 
as deer. 

" The train left soon after loading up with pine 
wood, and filling the boiler with well water carried 
in buckets by the negroes. It looked for awhile as 
if we would have to camp where we were, for we 
were not in light marching order, but had tents, 
chests, etc., which would require a wagon to haul. 



74 Posie ; or, From Revielle to Retreat, 

I beckoned to one of the ebony grinners on the 
pile of cross-ties, and after inquiring as to the lay 
of the land, employed him to go to a neighboring 
plantation to hire a wagon and some kind of con- 
veyance for my wife to ride in. The fellow grinned, 
showing a double row of white teeth, scratched his 
woolly pate, which seemed to be his regular organ- 
ized method of assisting his mental perplexities, and 
rolling his eyes with a volume of meaning said : 
* Yo' aint gwine hire no wagins nor none sich in dese 
yere parts, boss, de leechun am comin' in a few days 
an' dey gwine keep yo' from dere, sho's yo' bohn.' 

" Well, do the best you can. Sambo, and I will 
pay you well. 

" ' All right, boss, yo' got de right niggah now, 
sho'.' 

"After waiting for several hours the fellow came 
back with a wagon. 

" ' Lawd, boss, de planters roun' dese parts aint 
got no wagins ; some is broke, some is gone on de 
road, some ob de mules is lame, an' de res is dead 
I spec, yaw ! yaw ! dis one belongs to a cullud 
man.' 

" Well, how about the buggy ? 

" * Lawd, Boss, it aint no use, we can 't get none, 



On the March. 75 

but dere is a cuUud man what got one near de rib- 
ber. S'pose we load up, boss, 'cause de time be 
gwine, an' we wants to git ober dat ribber fo' dahk.' 
" It did not take long to load up the old wagon, and 
we were soon on our three miles march to the Chat- 
tahoochee. The roads were wet, and the sloppy, yel- 
low clay was over our ankles in some places. It was 
pretty rough on Mrs. Prescott, but she insisted on 
coming, so would not complain — and tried to make 
herself believe that she was having a good time. 
Her enthusiasm was about gone when we reached 
the river at sunset, but as is usual in southern lati- 
tudes, a soft, cool breeze came stealing over the 
dewy grass which, while she sat and waited for fur- 
ther developments, revived her drooping spirits and 
prepared her for the remainder of the fatiguing jour- 
ney. She had tried to ride part of the way, by sit- 
ting on a plank which projected from the back of 
the wagon, but the corduroy roads were so rough 
that she was shaken off without mercy. 

"There was a large, old house falling to decay 
near the place where we rested. The roof of the 
broad piazza was supported by colonial pillars, and 
many of these had fallen, or were propped up with 
rough pine logs. What was its history ? Once the 



76 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

abode of luxury and wealth, now the abode of many 
families of plantation negroes. Remnants of shrub- 
bery or rose trees, with old, ragged garments thrown 
over them to dry, were all that remained of once 
beautiful grounds. 

"The negroes from the house soon flocked like 
bees to see the Yankee soldiers, and after a little 
our negro guide and driver came riding up with a 
horse and buggy which were a good match. The 
horse was about as forlorn as it could be, and the 
buggy was simply a frame work ; all leather had long 
ago rotted away. The harness, partly of rope and 
partly of leather, was tied together with cotton 
strings. 

" It was quite dark by the time we were ready to 
cross the river, and when wagon and buggy were on 
the old, flat ferryboat, and the two negroes began to 
bail it out, it did not look very promising. We pushed 
off, however, and the smoky lantern cast a weird, red 
light on the dark river. The negroes pressed their 
poles with all their strength against the rushing 
waters. The boat glided heavily and seemed uncer- 
tain whether to go further or sink, but we reached 
the other side safely, and landed in a ' cane brake.' 
Here the ground was simply slush, and we were glad 



On the March. 11 

enough to make higher ground, sit around a pine 
knot fire, and dry ourseK es out, while we waited for 
the second trip of the boat with the comi)any. 

" Half a dozen negro boys had come over with us 
from the 'bee hive,' to escort us to a plantation ten 
miles away, where we expected to spend the night 
and get another wagon. They preceded the proces- 
sion with lighted pine knots, singing ' Shoo fly, don't 
bodder me.' We arrived at midnight and were 
kindly received, as the proprietor of the place had 
no feeling against Yankees, and was glad of the 
chance to make some money. 

" Next day we started for our destination through a 
rich country, with cotton and sugar cane fields almost 
constantly in sight. At midday we stopped to water 
the animals, so Mrs. Prescott and I walked down a 
slight declivity toward a river which could just be 
seen through the dense growth of trees. Magnifi- 
cent was the spot that we found. 

"At our feet was an immense basin of smooth, 
white, calcareous stone, from the side of which gushed 
a spring in all its depth and strength, forming a crystal 
river, which flowed rapidly, bearing its gushing, mur- 
muring tribute to the Chattahoochee. 

" It was one of those enchanting springs found in 



78 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

Florida ; clear, deep, pellucid ; too bright and pure 
for earth. The mossy bed of long, slender, emerald 
green plumes waving under the water, assumed 
through its mirror a tinge of deep, irradiant blue 
(hence the name) 'Blue Springs.' Nothing can be 
imagined more beautiful than the crystal waters 
gently moving the long, graceful plumes ; and the 
fish, as they glide along, assuming a silvery appear- 
ance. 

" We launched a small boat which was tied to the 
shore, and rowed into the middle of the basin. It 
was a most wonderful sight, and seemed like being 
suspended in space. Above was the blue vault of 
heaven ; below, the blue crystal water. We dropped 
a small silver coin from the boat, watched it every 
instant in its downward flight, and could distinctly 
see it lying on the mossy bed thirty feet below. It 
is difficult for one to believe, without having seen it, 
that such an enchanting place exists on earth. The 
golden water lily, held by its long, undulating stem, 
floated alone, and again in clusters along the banks, 
and again far out into the river, a striking contrast to 
the silver appearance assumed by every thing under 
the water. Stately live oaks, with long, gray moss 
hanging from their branches, broad-leaved magnolias, 



On tJic March. 



79 




FLORIDA SCENERY. 



80 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

and the under brush covered apparently with a cloth 
of gold by the fragrant, wild yellow jasmine, make a 
striking background to all this loveliness. 

" We were unwilling to leave this charming spot, 
but as there were many miles yet to travel we had to 
forego any further delay. As it was, night stole on 
us before we came in sight of the town. Mrs. Pres- 
cott became very nervous as we rode through the 
heavy timber, and exclaimed ; 

" 'How I wish that we were there.' 

** ' Why ? ' was my reply. 

" ' Oh ! I am afraid some one will shoot you, for 
you keep so far ahead of the company.' 

" 'You do not seem to have much confidence in 
your people,' I laughingly remarked. This was the 
first time she would acknowledge there was any thing 
to fear. Ku Klux, etc., were myths to her, but after 
this election tour, she was glad to get back to (juiet 
St. Augustine. 

" As soon as we arrived at the hotel of the little 
town, she was shown to her room, followed by a 
matronly-looking mulatto woman, with high bandanna 
and white apron, who seemed to be a person of no 
small importance around the house. 

" I drove back to the company, which was in 



On the March. 81 

charge of the lieutenant, and saw them comfortably 
camped for the night in an empty cotton gin. When 
I returned to the hotel, my wife was more nervous 
than ever, and I noticed that all the blinds in her 
room were closed. 

'''What does this mean,' said I, throwing the 
windows open, ' why do you shut out this balmy, 
perfumed air of which you are so fond ? ' 

" ' Oh ! I am so glad that you are back safe, that 
colored woman says they have been having dreadful 
times here, lately. The Ku-Klux have fired through 
the windows and killed several Republicans. One 
"carpet bagger" was shot and killed only a few nights 
ago while driving over the same road that you have 
just been on between here and the cotton gin.' 

"'Oh, what nonsense,' I replied, 'in being so 
alarmed. They will not do any harm to Uncle 
Sam's soldiers, you may rest assured of that.' 

" There were several clever, Southern gentlemen 
at the hotel, some of them boarding there, while 
others came merely to lounge around, smoke and 
take a drink. Several brought their wives to call on 
Mrs. Prescott, and made it very agreeable for us. 

"The election went off as quietly as possible. 
The soldiers were not needed at the polls, but there 



82 I'osk ; or, From Kivcillc to Rdrcai. 

was an ovcrwlit-lming m.ijorily for the Republican 
party; the first in the history of that section. 

"One evening, when sitting on the porch, Mrs. 
Prescott remarked to a gentleman, with whom she 
was conversing, ' Was n't it dreadful that beautiful 
young girl being killed on this porch a few weeks 
ago?' 'Yes, madam, that young girl was my 
daughter, and the bullet was intended for me. I 
was sitting over there,' said he, pointing to the spot. 
' It was just dark, and a wagon of merry picnicers 
drove up, after a day's frolic. My daughter ran up 
the steps, hat in hand, leaving the jolly crowd with 
the words, " I will see you all soon again." Then 
coming up to me, she sat on my knee, and with her 
arms around my neck, told of the glorious day that 
she had spent; when suddenly, from those trees 
beyond, was seen a flash, then came the report of a 
gun, and she fell lifeless into my arms. So you can 
see that others have suffered here as well as Repub- 
licans.' 

"There was a blank pause, for we were mute with 
astonishment. The grief of the father was too 
sacred to be interrupted. My experience two years 
before in Georgia had been very different. I had 
not met a Southern gentleman socially, and had 



On the March. 83 

very many unpleasant duties to perform, so they all 
hated me accordingly T learned this from a man 
whom I knew there, and who came to me for help 
in St. Augustine several years afterward. He was 
then dying of consumption, and I allowed him to 
be placed in the hospital. 

" He said that as he was dying, there would 
be no use in hiding a crime any longer, particularly 
as it never was carried out ; but that he knew at the 
time a plot was on foot to assassinate me on the day 
of the election. This would, they thought, stampede 
the company, and in that way the Democrats would 
carry the day. 

"'Why, sir, we Southerners had to resort to 
desperate means or the South would have been 
ruled by ignorant negroes and desperate carpet- 
baggers.'" 

Howard went to bed that night not feeling very 
happy ; still he made no remarks. As the Major 
entered the sitting room next morning the first sight 
that met his eyes was Howard with his book in his 
hands, but the usual interest was gone. He was 
looking away in a distracted manner. "Well, well, 
well ! my boy, what has come over the spirit of your 
dreams ? Have the ' Boys of '6i ' no charms for you 



84 Posic ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

this morning? Yesterday's enthusiasm was too 
much for you, I fear." Ardent sensibility glowed in 
every expression of his look and voice, and each 
emotion of his noble little heart seemed written on 
his countenance. "Come, come, my child, what 
worries you ? " said the father, as he stroked his fair 
hair and looked into his large, deep blue eyes. 
" Oh, nothing, nothing, on-ly — on-ly, I am so sorry 
poor mamma was born in the South." The con- 
fession was too much for him — it had never entered 
his mind before that his mother was not perfect'. 
He broke down in such bitter tears that it soon 
brought Mrs. Prescott to' the scene. "Oh! don't 
tell her! don't tell her, papa." " That 's all right, 
Howard, you are worthy of the name you bear, 
worthy to be named for our one-armed hero, and 
mamma is as proud of you as I am, 'aint you, 
mamma — even if this grief is on account of her hav- 
ing been born at the South ? Yes, Howard, I am 
very proud of my reconstruction work, and, above 
all, of the little rebel reconstructed." 

" For that reason, if no other, 
Would I wed the fair Dacotah, 
That our tribes might be united, 
That old feuds might be forgotten. 
And old wounds be healed forever." 



On the March. 85 

"Well, Howard," said Mrs. Prescott, "I guess 
you will have to be satisfied with mamma, papa 
seems to be ; and, as you were also born South, 
you can fully appreciate that I am proud of your 
loyalty. The war is something of the past ; there 
is no longer any dividing line. We have now one 
grand old flag which would be equally protected by 
the South as well as the North, should the occasion 
arise. This country is like a large family ; they 
sometimes quarrel among themselves, but, if an out- 
side party should interfere, the whole would turn on 
the one who interfered. When Florida and your- 
self have time to day I have a story to read to you. 
We have read ' Uncle Tom's Cabin ' and ' Uncle 
Remus ' over and over again, and you have pored 
over the ' Boys of '6i ' — now, to day, we will have 
' Posie ' for a change." 

"Oh, read it now, mamma; we have time right 
now." 

" Oh, you have forgotten your riding party. 
' Posie ' will keep until you return." 

The children were perfectly at home on their 
horses. They had learned to ride while at Apache, 
first on Mexican burros, which, stupid, slow animals, 
would allow any thing done to them, and scarcely 



86 Fosie; or, Fivm Reveille to Retreat. 

ever get out of a walk. When the children could 
not make a burro come to a certain place that they 
wanted to use to mount from, it was not an uncommon 
sight to see four or five of them drag a board, lay 
one end of it on the burro, and, with the other end 
resting on the ground, all scramble to his back, and 
after they had all packed on, from his ears to his 
tail, they would throw the board off; then, by all 
yelling and shaking their legs at the same tnne, they 
would sometimes succeed in getting him into a slow 
trot. Once in awhile, strategy would come to the 
rescue, and he would lie down — but before he could 
begin to roll they would all be off 

Several hours passed before the gay cavalcade of 
happy, healthy, hungry children returned. After 
dressing for the evening and enjoying a hearty sup- 
per, there was only one thought with them, and that 
was to hear the story of " Posie," and so, with the 
three bright, expectant little faces around her, Mrs. 
Prescott began. 



Posie. 87 



CHAPTER IV. 

rosiE. 



All was bustle and excitement in the little city by 
the sea. 

What did it all mean ? thought little Posie. She 
had never before these last few weeks heard any 
thing of the outside world to understand, and there 
was little life in the town — one could walk the length 
and breadth of it some days and scarcely meet a soul, 
with the exception of the daily occupants of the old 
slave market. There, the loafers of the town would 
sit and lounge, or nap at intervals, waiting to enjoy 
the sea breeze as it came in with the tide. 

Posie was naturally a thoughtful little girl. Both 
her father and mother had gone to the great world 
beyond ; so her ideas of the outer world were above, 
and how to be good, so as to get there, too, for her 
old Mammy daily impressed it on her mind that the 
"blessed Master" only wanted the good with him, 
and would not receive the bad. 

She lived in an old-fashioned house; one of the 
best in those days for St. Augustine. It was one of 



88 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

the first built by the Si^aniards, over two centuries 
before ; but had been so added to and changed, from 
time to time, that there was Httle more of the oris- 
inal left than the old coquina walls. The southern 
and western side abutted on the narrow street, and 
the overhanging piazza ran the entire length of the 
two sides, while a beautiful flower garden, filled with 
many of the semi tropical shrubs and flowers, adorned 
the northern side. Through it ran cool walks, 
covered with tiny white shells from the beach, and 
shaded with sweet flowering trees, that filled the air 
with intoxicating fragrance. On the eastern side was 
the " yard ; " there was the old coquina kitchen, with 
the fireplace almost the length of one side of the 
room. Here cord wood was laid on its immense 
andirons, where the pots hung on hooks over the fire, 
and on its ample hearth were numerous Dutch ovens 
for baking — one big enough to hold a large turkey or 
a small ])ig. Here Aunt Sally ruled sujjreme. The 
yard and all around the negro quarters, were shaded 
with flowering trees, such as the crape myrtle, the 
oleander and orange. Two immense oleanders and 
fig trees, near the back door, shaded the house, and 
covered part of the roof. Out from their wide- 
spreading branches, came the sweet notes of the 



Posie. 89 

mocking bird, that even could be heard far into the 
night, if the moon shone, wlien all the rest of nature 
slejjt. He was a staunch Southerner, and never left 
his native clime ; but with his mate was satisfied to 
live year after year in the same beautiful trees. He 
was not crafty about building his nest, so was often 
robbed, depending upon his fighting proclivities to 
defend it. He was a joyous, happy, easy-going fel- 
low, stylish and neat in his appearance, though never 
gaudily dressed. He had little to do, as food was 
obtainable in every direction, so he partook of the 
subtle influences of the perfumed air as it passed 
over the vast tracts of orange blossoms, and spent 
his time in merry-making ; but the beautiful part of 
his life was his devotion to his plain little mate. All 
their joys and sorrows were mutual. He was quick 
to resent an insult, and would swoop down and fight 
to the bitter end any one or any thing that would 
attempt to injure her in any way. 

Through the open doors and windows could be 
heard the cheerful, merry voices of the children. 
The interior was a dream of comfort, with its carved 
mahogany furniture, and its floors covered with mat- 
ting, and a rug thrown carelessly here and there. 
The dining room, with its smoothly polished table. 



90 J^osic ; or, From Rii'eillc to Retreat. 

supported in the middle by carved dragons, whose 
scaly bodies and claws extended out and formed its 
legs. So polished was it, that the glass, china and sil- 
ver service, were reflected almost as from a mirror. 
Posie's aunt was bringing up two sets of children, 
both without mothers, but her cousins were better off 
than her sisters and herself, as they had a father, an 
officer in the army. How often she used to think : 
Oh, if we, too, only had a father, and with such a 
beautiful, bright uniform ; then Uncle Sam would be 
our Uncle Sam too. He seemed to her like Santa 
Claus, but only to army people. 

The ladies of the town now held meetings regu- 
larly at her aunt's house, so she found out all that 
was going on — as there was nothing reserved from 
children or negroes. The Yankees were coming 
and they had to know it. The first event that she 
ever remembers concerning the war was that " Sum- 
ter has fallen," which was explained to her satisfac- 
tion. There were meetings now all over the town — 
all the sleepy fishermen waked up, and became in- 
terested in life ; the men were forming into a com- 
pany called the " Blues" — all joined, rich and poor, 
and some of Florida's best and noblest blood ; then 
there was another company forming in town, of men 



Posie. 91 

from the country, called the " Reauregards," with 
gray uniforms — the ladies made the uniforms for 
both. 

Uncle Tony, colored and free, and Samuei, the 
two principal musicians of the town band, headed 
the "Blues" with drum and fife as they marched 
away. It was a sad day for those left behind ; the 
town more deserted than ever ; only women, chil- 
dren and negroes and a few old men ; but the wo- 
men were brave and willing to bear it for a cause 
they considered just. The day after the soldiers left, 
whether it was Sunday or that they were at prayers 
for the safety of those gone to the war, Posie does 
not now remember, at any rate the church was filled 
with women and children, and the minister was in 
the midst of his sermon — she never did like ser- 
mons, never could understand what the minister was 
trying to say — so she always devised some plan to 
amuse herself; often made a minister out of her 
handkerchief, knotted at one end, which was put on 
her forefinger, the knot representing the head, the 
rest of the handkerchief drawn over the hand to 
represent the surplice, her hand leaning on a book 
for the pulpit, watched the minister, and each gesture 
was carefully imitated by the miniature minister whose 



92 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

hands were her thumb and second finger under the 
handkerchief. While this was going on, and think- 
ing the sermon would never end, some one came 
in and whispered to a lady. She whispered to 
some one else, and so on, until the women were wild 
with curiosity, and rose in a body and walked out, 
leaving the poor minister alone in the pulpit. 

Every one stopped, in front of the church, to 
hear the news. The gunboats were in sight ! Two 
great black monsters lay at anchor just outside the 
bar. The dreaded Yankees were near, and would 
soon enter the town. Indeed, there was nothing 
to prevent them — even if troops had been present, 
it would be easy to shell them out of the town. A 
few antiquated pieces were mounted on the old fort, 
but its weather-beaten walls would soon crumble 
under a heavy fire. 

0\\ the plaza, in front of the church, was a flag- 
staff, which had only yesterday held the emblem 
dearest to their hearts, and had gone with their 
loved ones to guide them through the bloody strug- 
gle that was to ensue. Almost wuh one voice, the 
women cried : "The Yankee flag shall never float 
from that staff — down with it !" Hatchets and axes 
were brought, and those who before had never, per- 



Posie. 



93 




OLD FORT SAN MARCO, FLA. 



94 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

haps, lifted any thing so heavy, had a turn at the 
great old flagstaff. It stood the attack bravely, and 
for some time the staunch old pine seemed to defy 
their strength, but it had to give up to strong wills, 
and, after a hard struggle on both sides, it fell, with 
a crash, amid wild cheers for the stars and bars. 

Quite a number of the ])arty adjourned to the 
barracks, which were in charge of an old ordnance 
sergeant. The United States troops had been with- 
drawn for many years, so the sole representative of 
Uncle Sam was Sergeant Douglas, who guarded the 
property with a watchful eye, and j^insisted that he 
would not give up the keys of either the fort or bar- 
racks to any rebel. 

On top of the building was a lookout, from which 
point one could command a view of the ocean for 
miles. Posie was in this party. She wanted, like 
the rest, to get a good view of those two black 
monsters, that seemed to be sleeping just outside of 
the town. The day was perfect; there was not a 
ripple on the water, and the bright blue sky seemed 
a striking contrast to the two black enemies. 
After they had watched them awhile, there were 
evident signs of life — marines were clearly dis- 
cernible on the decks, a small boat was lowered 



Posie. 95 

from one gun-boat and rowed to the other, then it 
returned and again it was rowed to its companion; 
then it pushed off for shore. " Look ! " exclaimed one 
of the party, as she pointed toward the fort ; and 
behold, a flag or truce was waving from its ramparts. 
Some wise heads, together with some few Union 
sympathizers, had made and put up the white flag, 
while the rest were gazing awestruck from their 
watchtower. 

Down at the wharf, which was midway between 
the old fort and St. Francis Barracks, a different 
scene was being enacted. Gathered there, were 
the few Union sympathizers ; a few old men and a 
few negroes, who were bold enough to come to the 
front to welcome the representatives of the United 
States Government, now rapidly approaching, with 
flags proudly waving, at each end of the boat. As 
the boat grounded and the officers stepped ashore, 
one of the first to step forward was old Daddy 
Smart, a venerable African, and one universally re- 
spected throughout the town. " Gentlemen, I 
welcome you to our sile, not so much on my own 
account as for de good of my race. I has been 
better dan free dese many years." There was a 
general handshaking and assurances of good will, and 



96 Posie ; o>; From Reveille to Retreat. 

then the officers were conducted to the old fort 
where the flag of truce was taken down and re- 
placed by the Star Spangled Banner, which waved 
out softly in the gentle sea breeze under the bright 
southern sky. Then the old town was left alone 
again, as the boat, with its occupants, returned to 
the men of war. 

When Posie returned home that day the old house 
was in a state she had never seen or dreamed 
of before ; every thing was confusion and hurry. 
Her aunt had decided to take all of the children, with 
the exception of herself, " over the lines," and all 
of the negroes, too, with the exception of a few of 
the old ones, were to go. Posie was to stay with 
her grandmother, who was too old to travel, and 
who thought she would fare better, at home, with 
the Yankees. It was a trying ordeal that they all 
went through in that house for the next day or two. 
If they remained all the negroes would be free and 
the children left without support, and also cut off 
from all intercourse with their father, who had now 
joined the Southern cause. The negroes, of course, 
did not want to go away from freedom, that was almost 
at their doors ; but they obeyed without a murmur 
and helped to get ready for the journey. 



Fosic. 97 

It was quite a large procession as they started off 
in stages, wagons, etc., that morning. Moses, who 
was to be the outrider, a smart, tricky young fellow, 
and who had been particularly active in getting the 
party ready for the journey, was nowhere to be 
found when they were ready to start ; his horse was 
saddled and hitched to the gate ; everybody was 
calling him ; some said he had gone one way, some 
another. Orders were left for him to overtake the 
party. The horse stood at the gate for hours and 
then was sent away. Moses did not put in an ap- 
pearance. 

Little Posie and her grandmother were alone now. 
They had the old trusted servants to wait on them 
and all the comforts of home, but their loved ones 
had gone, and a deep gloom seemed to settle over 
the once happy, cheerful home. That night her 
little bed was moved into the room with her grand- 
mother, and the two were destined to be nearer and 
dearer than ever before to each other. The windows 
rattled so loudly that night — she had never noticed 
those sounds before, or if she had, they never 
sounded dreary. The next day news came of the 
landing of troops from the boats ; every one felt 
afraid, and Posie shared their fears; she did not dare 



98 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

go out — there was no telling what the Yankees 
would do. It was a great trial to be penned up in 
the house, for she had always been accustomed to be 
out each day, and a long time each day, too. 

That afternoon soldiers began to pass the house, 
any number at a time. They were all quiet and 
orderly — some full of fun and merriment, others 
more serious. She watched them from behind a 
curtain. Why, they look just like other men, she 
thought. I guess they are all right. I don't believe 
they would hurt any one. So that night she went to 
bed feeling happier after being assured by her grand- 
mother that the Yankees were just like other people 
— some good and some bad. Next day, the love of 
out-door exercise and curiosity were too much greater 
than fear to keep her in, so she determined to go to 
Maum Di's for a visit, only a short distance off. 
Maum Di was an old family servant, and the wife of 
Daddy Smart, who has been spoken of before. She 
had nursed Posie's father when a baby, and all of the 
children down to Posie. Neither had been called on 
to do any thing for several years, although strong and 
healthy, but they had been given a little house to 
live in and their clothes. Her husband and herself, 
therefore, had only to earn enough to feed them- 



Posie. 99 

selves, which was an easy task, as he had a good 
trade, and she was a good laundress. 

Posie spent much of her time with these old peo- 
ple; she had been with Maum Di as long as she 
could remember, and after she moved away from the 
big house considered it her duty and pleasure to visit 
her regularly, and so did Maum Di. Posie did not 
feel particularly comfortable on the street, and was 
glad when the gate was shut and she found herself 
on the walk leading to the old woman's cabin, on 
each side of which was a confusion of perfume, 
both of vegetables and flowers. There were beds 
of sweet marjorum, sage and thyme ; peppers of dif- 
ferent colors, cabbages, turnip, corn, pumpkin, and 
other vegetables. Beds of phlox, marigolds, chrys- 
anthemums and sweet peas. On the lattice near the 
house and over the well were morning-glories and 
Brazilian vine, while near the door grew huge sun- 
flowers. 

Posie had her little garden there, too, which she 
delighted in, and planted after the same order. She 
stopped now and then to pick a flower, and after a 
little, walked into the cabin. The old woman sat in 
her rocking chair, smoking her little, short, black 
clay pipe, and did not raise her eyes for a few min- 



100 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Ret /eat. 

utes, or, if she did, would look straight ahead. Posie 
knew this was a sign of displeasure, so she sat down 
and looked off in the distance too. Finally the old 
woman began: "Seems like de 'citement been too 
much for yo' lately, Posie; yo' ain't been inside dis 
do' for mo' dan a week." " Yes, I know it, Maum 
l)i, but it is so dreadful, now, and I am afraid to go 
out; these hateful Yankees — it is no knowing what 
they wilPdo. Mrs. Jackson told her servants that 
the Yankees have horns and are dreadful creatures, 
who will kill or carry off the negroes in worse slavery 
than they are in now." "Hush, honey, yo' mus' 
not talk dat way. Neber min' 'bout Miss Jackson, 
she can't fool her niggers, nor nobody else' niggers; 
ebbery body know all 'bout de Yankees. I tole yo' 
dat freedom was right, and now dey is come to set 
us all free. Marser nebber did like slavery. He 
was a Yankee officer once, so was yo' grandfather ; 
he gave up his life for his country, yo' grandfather I 
mean." "But, Maum Di, you are so different from 
the white folks. They do n't like the Yankees. 
Grandma was mad with Daddy Smart for making 
that speech to them on the wharf — he told you, 
didn't he." "Yes, chile, he did. What did ole 
Miss say ? " "Why, I hate to hurt your feelings. 



Posi'e. 101 

but she says that lie is ungrateful after all that the 
family has done for you both." " Well, chile, I is 
sorry ole Missus feels dat way, but she will tink dif- 
ferent ater while. Somehow, we never could get 
on, dough she always done her duty by us. You 
see, ' ole man ' an' me blongs to de odder branch of 
de famly on yo' father's side, an' she is on yo' 
mother's side — gess dat's de reason." 

Both Daddy Smart and Maum Di were very lofty 
in their ideas ; he had been overseer and preacher 
on his master's plantation, and she had been mistress 
of the nursery; so they had both gained strong in- 
fluence and knew how to use it. "Law, Posie " 
said he, "if it had not been for dose jelous darkies 
on de plantation I would er had a good eddication ; 
dey used hate to see me wid a book in my han', 
and marser was anxious to hab me larn, but dey 
said a nigger who knows too much was dangus, an' 
warn me to stop ; so now yo' see, chile, I has got to 
depen' on yo'." They neither of them spoke the 
negro dialect, but, as you will observe, their conver- 
sation was somewhat on that order. They delighted 
on all occasions to use big words, whether in the 
right place or not, or whether the word was right 
or not. Maum Di " did hate ignance," but 



1 02 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

above all she hated "Buckras" or "white trash," 
and insisted on it that Posie should not "'socia.e 
with any po' white children. If yo' can't play with 
yo' equals, yo' just got to play by yo' self. Now, 
the black chilun da knows da place, so it don't mek 
no dif 'runce bout dem ; dey ain't so outdacious like 
de po' white trash. Howsoeber, Posie, dis ain't 
settlin' up bout yo' stayin' away so long ; yo' see last 
week the ole man had to get his sarmon all alone, 
and it mek a heap ob wuk for him; it ain't much 
trouble for yo' to read dose chapters over for him ; 
an' now, chile, de town is brim full of plantation 
people, an' all wants to come an' hear him preach. 
Dey is flocking in ebery day now to de Yankees, so 
if yo' will promise to be ya sho' Saturday morning 
we will mek up. What yo' had to eat to-day ? — come 
sit down ya honey. Maum Di just been a savin' dis 
little chicken and rice hot for yo'. I knowed dis 
mornin' would bring yo'. Now, ain't that good? 
Yo' know Sally ca n't git no flavor like dat on her 
chicken in de big kitchen." "Yes, it is just lovely, 
Maum Di, and this coffee is so nice ; I have been 
wanting some ever since I was here last. I think 
it is so foolish not to let children have coffee at home ; 
nothing is half so good at the house as here. Sally 



Posie. 103 

can't cook, she only thinks so." " Yo' jest talkin' 
now, chile, dat is jest what I tink.'" " Now, you see, 
Maum Di, you have so many nice little herbs grow- 
ing in your garden and it makes things taste so nice." 
"Well, no good cook would be widout a garden; 
some is so worfless. Now, Posie, you can go to dat 
store near the plaza and buy me a new head hand- 
kerchief, dey is just lovely ones dere ; yo' pick it out 
an den yo' can come back an' hem it for me ; yo' 
just got to try yo'self on dis hemming; ya's de 
money, an' run along -de Yankees ain't gwine to 
look at yo', dey got odder business to tend to." So 
Posie posted off down the street, and just as 
she got near the plaza she was attracted by a new 
sight. A regiment had just landed and was assembled 
on the plaza. They were in Zouave uniforms, and 
looked wild and strange to her. " Perhaps these are 
the bad kind," she thought. They were not far off, but 
being with a group of familiar people, she felt reas- 
sured, and began to feel interested watcliing them. 

It was all so new and strange ! Suddenly, clang 
went the band as it started to play ! Never before, 
nor never after in life, did Posie have such a scare. 
A lady near noticed her alarm, and, putting her arms 
around her, drew her on a porch and tried to console 



104 Posie ; or, From Reveille /o Retreat. 

her and have her listen to the pretty n usic. Her idea 
of a band before was Uncle Tony with his fiddle, 
Samuel with his tambourine, and Sam Grass with his 
bass fiddle. If she had heard of a brass band, she 
had not comprehended its meaning ; but she knew 
what it meant now. Again and again it played; 
softer and softer it seemed each time, until it was 
hard to tear herself away, and she began to think 
if the Yankee horns were no worse than these she 
had little to fear. Then she remembered Maum 
Di's bandanna ; so she determined to go for it. 
As she entered the store two Zouaves were in it, 
standing at a counter; one of these looked so im- 
mense! The longer she looked at him the larger 
he seemed to get. She was spell bound and the 
Zouave noticed it. With a movement toward her, 
he said: " Oh, you funny little child." Posie did 
not wait any longer for her handkerchief, but made 
a hasty retreat, and did not stop until she was again 
safely inside of the grounds of the dear old home. 
Her grandmother was entertaining another old lady 
of decided Union sentiments, and they were dis- 
cussmg the situation. As Posie entered both looked 
up with a smile of welcome. " Where has my little 
girl been all this lime? Guess she is getting over 



Posie. 105 

her fear," said her grandmother. Both of the old 
ladies enjoyed a hearty laugh over her experience 
with the band and the Zouaves. . " You must not 
run off in this way, Posie, now that the town is so 
full of new soldiers ; you must have Alice with you ; 
I don't consider it safe." The old ladies were 
talking of the freedom of the negroes. " They are 
virtually free now," said Mrs. Webster, but to- 
morrow the Proclamation of Emancipation is to be 
read to them in the Presbyterian Church." "Proc- 
lamation of Emancipation — that sounds big; guess 
Daddy Smart would like to have those words," 
thought Posie. She walked out into the yard and 
found Alice. "Oh, Alice, did you hear that the 
Proclamation of Emancipation was to be read to you 
all to-morrow in the Presbyterian Church?" "The 
what, child? I don't know what they are going to 
do, but papa says we have all got to go there 
to-morrow at ten o'clock." " I guess I will go with 
you, too, Alice, and hear what all this is." Next 
morning, Posie and Alice were with the throng of 
negroes at the Presbyterian Church. She was 
doubtless the only white person in the church, 
with the exception of the guards at the doors and 
those at the pulpit. Conspicuous among the latter 



1 00 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

was " Liberty Billings," and officers of high rank in 
their bright uniforms, and guards resting on their 
arms on each side of the pulpit. Mr. Billings 
began: "My good people, we are here to-day in 
the name of the great father at Washington, not 
master, for the days of masters are at an end now, 
to read to you the glad news of freedom." There 
was a murmur through the church of " Glory to God." 

" This paper, before me is Mr. Lincoln's Proclama- 
mation of Emancipation. You are all free, and can 
go when and where you like. Now, all who want it 
read and wish to be free, raise your right hand." 
All hands went up in a moment, except Alice's, who 
was in deep conversation with Posie, but was cjuickly 
brought to her senses by her father, who gave her a 
severe nudge, saying, " Vo' fool niggah, why don't yo' 
rais yo' han' up ; does yo' wan' be slave all yo' life ? " 

Then the paper was read, and after a short addre.ss 
and a prayer from the army chaplain all filed out 
in an orderly manner, rejoicing and thanking God. 
When Saturday arrived, Posie was on hand to help 
the old man with his sermon, and read over and 
over to him the chapter which he had selected and 
upon which he was going to preach, until he could 
read it well himself He could read a little, but it 



Posie. 107 

was very hard work for him. Posie had been carefully 
instructed, and, although only nine years old, was a 
fine reader and well up in her other studies. She 
had another pupil, Alice, the young woman who 
waited on her grandmother and herself, and whom 
Posie never tired of teaching, as she was a bright 
scholar, and, besides, they always had lots of fun 
over their books every night before going to bed ; 
but with the old man it was different. It was a duty, 
and sometimes a laborious one, for she well knew 
that work as she might he would never learn to read 
any better. 

He was sitting at the open door as she came up 
the walk, with his silver bowed spectacles on and a 
large well worn testament on his knees ; he had the 
book opened at the 14th chapter of St. John. 
Maum Di sat near him sewing with a number four 
needle and a number twenty thread, taking stitches 
to correspond on her bright colored calico patch- 
work. She was evidently the original designer of 
the "crazy quilt" of to-day, as she paid no at- 
tention to the patterns of angles, squares, flowers, 
etc., which were then so universal in making quilts, 
but stitched her pieces together just as they hap- 
pened to come, "an' so dey would not rip," until 



108 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

she would have the most remarkable work of art, 
with borders of the brightest yellow and red. 

"Its jes foolish to cut up good cloth an' spile de 
colors, so yo' can't tell which from tolher. If yo' 
want flowers, de garden is de place for dem, an' 
besides dat, yo' can mek six of dese while yo' is 
pestering long wid one like de kine ole Miss meks." 

"Well, yo' is on han' to-day, I see," began the 
old man, looking proudly into the face of the little 
girl. " Ebery day yo'-is getting to look mo' an' mo' 
like Massa used to. He was always on han' when 
lie i)romis', same as yo' is now." 

" Yo' goin' to wuk a little bit for the Lord as well 
as myself. Yo' see, I is hard at it; come, honey, 
sit down by me now, while I begin. ' Let not yo' 
heart be troubled, yo' believe in Ood believe also in 
me.' " He had doubtless studied that verse over for 
an hour or more; he read it so fluently and looked 
up over his glasses with contentment fairly beaming 
from his face. 

" Yo' see, Posie, I got so much to preach about 
to-morrow I scasely know whar to begin and whar to 
en' ; but we will read the chapter firs." Then Posie 
read: "In my Father's house are many mansions. 
If it were not so I would have told you. I go to 



Posie. 109 

prepare a place for you." "Oh, Daddy Smart, you 
must have that hymn about building the house, sung 
the first one to-morrow, it will be so appropriate," 
and the three joined in singing the first verse : 

" Mj' Fatlier buil' a house in Paradise; 
My Father buil' a iiouse in Paradise; 
He buil' um widout a hammer or a nails, 
Yes, Lord, widout a hammer or a nail." 

"You will preach most about freedom, I suppose, 
to-morrow, and all that happened in church yester- 
day, won't you?" "Well, guess dat will be de 
most principal subjec'. De people don't hardly bleve 
dose gent'lmen ; dey is feared dey gwine back to 
dey masters; but, chile, dat day is never comin'. 
Dar is goin' on a mighty wah now and de Yankees 
is sure to beat. Dey is goin' to lead dese black 
people to freedom, same as Moses led the ( hildren 
of Israel through de Red Sea to the Land of Ca- 
naan." " Why don't you let me read that chapter 
to you about Moses leading the children of Israel 
out of Egypt ? " " Now, Posie, if yo' goin' to preach 
dis sarmon, all right. If I is goin' to, dats 'nother 
ting. Dis lesson is full of comfort and is jes what 
de people want. I understand all about preachin'; 
it is only 'bout readin' I need yo', an' splainin' 



110 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

some of de big words. Dey got to be 'bout and 
doin' better, or dey never will see none of dose man- 
sions, much less go inside one. Now, Posie, yo' 
done read dis all ober so nice I know all I am 'bout, 
and is just waitin' for the Lord's day." 

As they sat there, who should walk in but the 
truant Moses. "Well, for the Lord sake, if here 
aint Moses! Whar yo' been all dis time, boy? 
tought yo' was miles away," said old Maum Di. 
" We was jus talkin' 'bout your namesake in de 
Bible ; how he led the children of Israel trugh the 
Red Sea." "Well, I gwine help our race trugh de 
Red Sea, too. I done mek up my min' to jine de 
army ; I neber mean to go into slavery when free- 
dom was right ya ! I been hiding safe till the Yan- 
kees is ya safe an' sound an' come for stay. Dey is 
'listin' soldiers now in town ; lots of de boys is 
gwine. Josh is gwine, so is Morris. " "Josh gwine! 
Old Missis will neber let him go; she raise him 
more like her own chile in de house." " He aint 
gwine ask old Miss; he gwine anyhow." 

Time wore on. The troops constantly changed. 
There seemed to be a coming and going all the 
time. The town was made a convalescent hospital, 
and sick soldiers were sent there from all over the 



Fosie. 1 1 ] 

country. The revenue cutters and steamers ran 
regularly from Hilton Head and Port Royal, which 
made the once (juiet bay look lively and business- 
like. No very large boats could cross the bar, as the 
water was too sliallow. At home, Posie and her 
grandmother had almost become accustomed to being 
alone. They read and sewed together, and Posie 
ministered to all of her wants as best she could. 
Alice was with them constantly ; the emancipation 
had not affected her ; she was faithful and attentive 
to her duties and seemed to have no desire to leave, 
until she became intimate with a young woman who 
was going as stewardess on one of the steamers. 
"You can get a place and good wages on the same 
boat with me, if you will go ; " but she resisted 
after seeing Posie in tears, and the boat went off 
without her. But it was only a short month before 
the tempter was back, with accounts of all the new 
places she had seen and the money she had made. 
" You are still a slave," she would say. " Why 
won't you come ?" So, one day Alice said to Posie : 
*' Darling, I am going to leave you. I want to see 
something myself." It was a sad parting; all the 
pleasant evenings were over, and the fun they used 
to have together. How could she get on without 



112 Posie : or, From Rei'eille to Retreat. 

Alice ? The same Presbyterian Church which held 
the negroes a few months ago, to hear the glad 
news of freedom, held now the mothers, wives, 
daughters and friends of the Blues and Beauregards. 
They were ordered there to take the oath of alle- 
giance to the government. After hours of waiting, 
some few were allowed to take it, but the majority 
could not, as they had to swear to give up, in every 
way, those who had gone to the war. Those who 
did not take the oath were ordered to leave the 
town by boat the next day. They bade farewell to 
their homes, took a small amount of food and 
clothing, and went aboard the crowded boat. The 
wind and sea were high, so the boat tossed about 
just outside of the bar tor two days and then made 
its way to Jacksonville, where they were put across 
the lines to join their people as best they could — 
but such is war. 

The officer who was in command at the time was 
in constant fear of the rebels communicating with 
the women in some way and taking the town. He 
would issue orders, which would be posted all over 
the town, telling those who had any respect for their 
lives to come to the fort at the first alarm, for if the 
rebels attempted to take the town he would shell it 



Posie. 113 

and burn it to the ground. Then at night he would 
bombard the country round ; sometimes the shells 
would burst prematurely in the town, but fortunately 
no great harm was done. After that command left 
Augustine, word was sent back that he had resigned, 
as the officers of his regiment refused to serve under 
such a commander. 

The minister who was preaching in the little 
church by the plaza did not remain there long. 
He refused to pray for the President of the United 
States. He was given an hour to get ready, put on 
a horse and sent across the lines, the provost marshal 
informing him that there he could pray for whoso- 
ever he saw fit. The abandoned houses were for 
some months just as the people left them ; some be- 
longed to the rich, some to the poor. The wearing 
apparel even hung in the wardrobes as the people 
did not have time nor the opportunity to pack or 
take with them more than they could carry. One 
lady in her hurry and excitement to get off, told each 
of her many children to take with them what was 
most valuable and what they thought they would 
most need, as she was too hurried to think. On 
their way to the boat she noticed little five year old 
Helen with a large tin bucket carefully covered over 



114 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

with a towel. She had put it down several times to 
rest, but did not complain. The rest of the family 
would wait until she was able to proceed again. 
Finally the mother said : " My dear baby, what on 
earth did you bring, that is such a burden ? You 
must leave your bucket, the weight will make you 
sick." " Oh, mamma ! Oh, mamma ! It is mouser 
and her kittens. I could not leave her with the 
Yankees." 

One day, Posie was grieved to see a wagon driven 
into the grounds of the next house, and the men 
enter and bring out the piano and many other valu- 
ables. She loved the lady dearly who owned the 
property, and resolved in her mind to save all that 
was in her power ; so next morning by break of day 
she was up and began her arduous task. In the 
first place, a board had to be taken off of the fence 
between the premises large enough for her to get 
through. Then she entered the house and began to 
look around and make up her mind what she could 
do. Her eyes first rested on an oil painting of the 
Madonna and Child ; it was a beautiful thing with 
massive gilt frame. How she wished she had 
strength enough to take it down and carry it over 
home up to the garret where she intended to 



Posie. 115 

store every thing she saved until the war was over, 
and then her friend would have some of her things 
anyhow. 

She determined to make the attempt, and, after 
much thought, put a small table on top of a larger 
one and then mounted it, and went to work with all 
the strength of body and mind that she could muster. 
She lifted and tugged, but the cord would move up 
with the picture and would not come oft" of the nail. 
She was determined not to fail now, so went into the 
kitchen and got a knife. In a moment she was up 
on her improvised ladder and cutting away at the 
cord, and trying to hold up the picture with the little 
left arm. She knew that it was very heavy, but did 
not fully realize its size until it fell to the floor with 
a crash that echoed loudly through the empty house. 
She was frightened at the noise, and grieved almost 
to tears when she found that the frame was badly 
cracked, but she could manage it now at any rate, 
and made up her mind that it was a useless waste of 
time to worry about the picture, so began by taking 
down some of the smaller ones and bearing them 
away to their hiding place. Then she took pillows 
and bedding, andirons and fenders, toilet sets, china 
and glass — in fact, every thing that she was able to 



116 Posie ; or, Fnnn Reveille to Retreat. 

carry away — until peo])le l)Cgan to stir about and she 
thouglit it best to wait until a more quiet time. She 
had not let any one into her confidence, not even 
her grandmother, for she had heard that all the de- 
serted houses were confiscated i)roj)erty now and be- 
longed to Uncle Sam, so she did not want to get any 
one into trouble and depended on her own skill not 
to be caught at it herself She did not tliink it be- 
longed to Uncle Sam ; he had no right to take the 
j)oor peoj)le's property. So, day after day, she la- 
bored, until she was cpiite satisfied with her under- 
taking. 

Her grandmother did not think any thing of her 
running up and down the garret stairs so often, as it 
was one of Posie's favorite play-grounds. It was 
one immense room the entire size of the house, dark 
as a jiocket, until one of the old fashioned shutters 
could be opened, which were usually kejjt closed. 
The rats and mice would scamper across the floor 
into their holes as she groped her way across the 
room. The negroes never went there unless sent, 
and with company : they said the place was haunted. 
She had no fear of the supernatural — was rather in 
hopes of seemg somethmg or some one from the 



Posie. 117 

better world, who could explain the mysteries over 
which she often pondered. 

Here was collected all the trash, worn-out pieces 
of furniture, etc., that had been sent up there from 
time to time for forty years, as new ones had taken 
their places : old clocks, five or six of them, that she 
loved to wind up and have them all going and strik- 
ing at the same time. There were trunks of old 
clothes — one with a uniform and all that j^ertained to 
it, belts, brass fixings, etc.; one full of daintily made 
baby clothes ; this was, above all, her delight. They 
were yellow with age, but from time to time she 
would take a suit down and beg her grandmother 
for it for her large doll. The children were never 
allowed to go into these sacred receptacles, but 
Posie was alone now, so her grandmother would 
look at the little articles, sigh, look away off, and 
say: "Yes, darling, you can have them; but, Posie, 
you must not go into the old hair-covered trunk that 
has all of those old papers. They will not interest 
you. They are about your father's estate, and some 
of these days, when you grow up and are a smart 
woman, you will, perhaps, be glad that your grand- 
mother would not let you have them now. She 
will be gone then to a better world, but will always 



118 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

be watching her little girl." "Grandma, I think 
this is a dreadful world. I wish so often to go, too, 
and be with mamma, but I want to stay with you 
until you go. Oh, it must be so lovely there ! no 
war, no separation, no suffering of any kind ! Daddy 
Smart says that the way is so narrow and winding 
that few find that golden gate." 

" Posie." you are loo much with those old people. 
They jjut so many strange notions into your head." 
"Don't you like them, (irandma? They are so 
dear." "Why, yes, child; but you would be better 
off not to be so much under their influence." 



Maum DPs Confidence Shaken. 119 



CHAPTER V. 

MAUM DI'S CONFIDENCE SHAKEN. 

After that last conversation between Posie and her 
grandmother about the old people, she staid at 
home for several days sewing and teaching a little 
negro girl whom she had taken charge of since Alice 
left. She would cut out and make the most gorgeous 
red calico gowns for her, which made the little dar- 
key dance with delight. She would sit patiently by 
Posie for hours, waiting to have her dress fitted, 
which performance would be gone through on an 
average every fifteen minutes. She never complained 
or made a noise of any kind, for Posie was very 
nervous when she fitted dresses. There was so much 
to be cut off, and so much in another place to be put 
on. Often the little darkey would go sound asleep. 
She was a queer looking little creature, when she 
would appear Sunday all decked off with a hat, on 
the same order as the dress, also trimmed by Posie, 
from odds and ends of old artificial flowers and rib- 
bons found around the house. 



120 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

Posie's love was too deep for those two old people 
for her to stay away very long, even if it did not 
please the one who was dearer to her than any one on 
earth. She did not forbid Posie's going, and Posie 
never inquired too deeply into her feelings on the 
subject, so it was not disobedience. 

The Smyrna figs were just ripe, and Mauni Di was 
so fond of them ; she only had white figs on her 
place, so now was a chance for Posie to climb the 
tree and gather a nice basketful and take them as a 
peace offering to her. The old woman appreciated 
a little attention, and even if she was not pleased 
with Posie for staying away, she would accept the 
gift and say nothing. This morning the old woman's 
air seemed different from any thing Posie had ever 
noticed. There were even tears in her eyes. Posie 
went right \\\\ to her, and i)Utting her arms around 
her neck, asked the reason of her troubled look. 

"Oh, chile, I ain't got no confidence in nobody; 
I got mo' trouble dan I kin stan'; de Yankee sojers 
has stole all my money. Yesterdav afternoon a 
whole gang of dem come ya wid dey guns, and say 
dey bliged to sarch de house for sumthing 'nother dey 
sa' some nigger stole. I was dat mad I could scarcely 
see, so I sed, jest walk in an' sarch, and did not move 



Mauiu Dt's Confidence Shaken. 121 

out my seat ; but dey was n't mo' an' gone befo' I 
thought 'bout my money, and went to look for it, 
and it was gone. Of course I feel bad 'bout it all. 
Ole man an' me ben savin' it for dese many years ; I 
always had keep it in de same place between my 
feather bed and mattrass, but dey was one twenty 
dollar gold piece my heart is jes' broke ober ; massa 
gib it to me de day your little brother was born ; he 
was so proud ob dat boy — yo' see the firs' two was 
gals, and he always sed dat he was goin' to mek us 
free when he had a son, but dat day he sed: ' Be- 
linda, if I thought yo' would be better off, I would 
give yo' your papers right now, but think yo' is bet- 
ter off wid us. Yo' need never do another lick of 
work unless yo' feel like it. We will always tek good 
care of yo' both.' Your little brother did not stay 
wid us 'ong, only long nuff to mek us all love him, 
and den went away to mek us all want to go to dat 
bright home mo' and mo'. He died 'fo yo' was born ; 
yo' papa died when yo' was jes' one year old. Posie, 
chile, when I think 'bout all yo' father has los' an' 
now what yo' po' chillun has los, I can scarcely 
enjoy freedom. Yo' see, I ben in de fambly so 
long I know all 'bout it. Yo' papa look right 
in dis ole black face when he first open his 



122 Posie ; or, From Jievcillc to Retreat. 

eyes in dis world, an' I was wid his mother, too, be- 
fo' she married yo' grandfather. Yo' see yo' grand- 
mother was rich — yo' grandfather had money, too ; 
he was captain of a ship in de navy what gone after 
dem IngHsh jiirots." " Maum Di, the pirates were 
not Enghsh ; I have read about them and Grandma 
has told me all about them," suggested Posie. 
"Well, neber min' what yo' read, I know dem In- 
glish ben a i)irottin' 'round ya long 'fore yo' was 
born, much less could read. Dey done put de 
pirots up to de devilment anyhow, an' look right ya, 
honey, if dey wasn't skeered dey would be right on 
han' to help in dis ya fight an' keep us poor slaves 
in bondage forebber ; but dey done got two onmer- 
ciles lickings already fer meddlin' wid wot aint con- 
sarn dem, so yo' bet dey gwine mek dey self scase. 
I year all dis read long ago an' year it talk 'bout. 
Ole Miss aint gwine bleve nothin' bad 'bout dem 
Inglish ; she was born an' rais' in Inglan' an' neber 
did like ya. She had a heap ob trouble sence dey 
come ya. Yo' know all 'bout it; yo' hab year it 
talk 'bout in de house. Yo' Grandpa had de fines' 
kin' ob sugar plantation, wah yo' Uncle John's place 
is now. He buil' him de fines' kin' ob house an' it 
was furnish gran'. Den de goverment mek up dey 



Maum Di's Confidence Shaken. 123 

mins to move de Injuns when dey wasn't doin' no 
harm, an' de Injuns mek up dey mins dey wasn't 
gwine leab dey homes, so dar it was, trouble an' 
fightin' — all de planters, dere famblies an' slaves, 
had to come to town. De po' slaves was packed in 
so close dat 'bout half ob dem died ; some run off 
wid de Injuns. Dere is lots of niggers wid de 
Seminoles, way down Souf now. De Injuns burn 
yo' Grandpa's place to de groun'. Dey did not leab 
nothing; eben de trees roun' de place was burn up. 
Yo' Grandma lay dis trouble to the govermint. 
Now dis wah is come and de fambly gwine lose all 
dey property agin, so she lay it at dey door, too. 
Ole Miss dunno what to do or tink. She got chillun 
Norf and Souf. Dose dat married and gone Norf 
aint gwine come back now, yo' hear me." 

"Grandma does not think the English are afraid 
to come over here and help the South," remarked 
Posie, "and she believes these reports that we heai 
are true." 

At this point of the conversation there was a 
chuckle from the old man, who was sitting in another 
part of the room. "Sis Linda, I know yo' got heap 
ob trouble, but wat's de use ob fiUin' dis chile head 



124 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

full ob all dat talk? It can't be help, an' only meks 
her feel bad. 

"Come ober ya, honey, while yo' fine out why de 
Inglish aint comin' ya, an' 

"why liRO. HEAR AN' MISS EAGLE IS FRENS. 

"I jes plum give out tellin' yo' 'bout de Tar 
Baby, Bro. Fox, Bro. Rabbit, an' dose odder tales. 
I guine tell yo' now 'bout Miss Eagle. 

" Dere was, once pun time, a great, big lion an' a 
monstrus big bear, an' dey both live in a country 
ob dey own, wah dey could roam roun' an' do jes as 
dey please. Now, Bro. Bear range was so big dat 
he was satisfy, an' he jes lay roun' an' lib on de fat 
ob de Ian'. But Bro. Lion country was small, but 
he know he was a mighty beast, an' all de odder 
beasts was scared ob him. So he can't mek he self 
satisfy, so he would prowl roun' an' either destroy de 
small beasts, or scare dem so dat dey jes would run 
off soon as dey hear his big growl, much less see him. 

"Now, all dis mek him bery outdarious, an' he 
think 'bout Bro. Bear, who lib in de big country, an' 
is so slick an' fat. So up he gits and starts for Bro. 
Bear, but he ain't no mo' dan step on his sile, dan 
Bro. Bear, who is layin' by fat an' slick, rais his 



Maum DVs Confidence Shaken. 125 

powerful right paw up an' give him such a wack dat 
he slink back wid his whol' lef jaw swell up. 

" Now, time pass on, an' Bro. Bear got sick, an' 
was in trouble. He lay roun' an' lick his paws an' 
don't know what to do. Bye an' bye, he hear wings 
floppin', and who stan' up befo' him but Miss Eagle. 

"Now, she lib in a country way off, ober a great 
big pond, but she hear Bro. Bear is in trouble, so 
she gone dere to help him. She was good hearted 
an' like to see all de res' ob de birds in her country 
hab a good time, and dey was happy an' fat as birds 
could be, an' would do any thing Miss Eagle tell 
dem. So when she fine out what Bro. Bear want, 
she jes sen' it ober de big pond by de odder birds. 

" Now, Bro. Lion can 't be satisfy, an' de swellin' in 
his jaw won't go down, so he prowl roun' worse dan 
eber. At las', he think 'bout Miss Eagle country, 
wah he hear de birds is all fightin' agin each odder. 
Dey was so slick an' fat dere, an' had no one to mek 
dem behave, cause Miss Eagle was too good ; she 
had let dem do as dey please too long. 

"Now, Bro. Lion think he was right in it, so he 
brace he self up, rub his jaw down good, an' start 
off. But Bro. Bear fine out Bro. Lion pranks, an' 
he start off, too, to see Miss Eagle, an' lay roun' fat 



126' Posk \ or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

an' comfortable. Bye an' bye, who come long but 
Bro. Lion, jes like he own de worl', when, lo an' be- 
hol', he see Bro. Bear! 

" Posie, chile, he jes raishe hat an' say 'Good 
mornin,' soon as he see dat powerful right paw." 

"Now," said Maum Di, "I gwine back to my 
story wah yo' hege me ofif when I wa*s talkin' of my 
dear marster. I ain't shame to call him marster if 
we is all free, 'cause he was a gran', good man. 
When yo' grandfather went on dat las' voyage, he sed 
he would neber mek no mo' — he was goin' to stay 
home wid his wife and boy. Lord, chile, he was 
right about dat — he neber did mek no mo'. We 
wait an' wait fo' letters ; we wait an' wait fo' news ; 
but no letters an' no news neber did come \ not 
one soul from that ship eber was heard from. 

"When ebery hope was gone, an' dey know de 
ship was los, yo' grandma neber would come out her 
room no mo' — she jes died broken hearted ; dat is de 
long an' de short ob it. Yo' papa was left wid his aunt 
when only a baby. He was considered one of de 
richest babies in de state. His aunt had ebery ting 
straight. She looked out for his property, but de 
good Lord called her, too, so masser's property was 



Maum Di\s Confidence Shaken. Vll 

in de bans ob a gardeen altogether from dat time 
until he was a man. 

"Well, de good book say, 'jedge not dat yo' be 
not jedged,' but, chile, when massa come to age,' 
he did not get much. l)ey is piles on piles ob ole 
papers in dat ole trunk in de garret what tells all 
'bout it. Massa did begin to 'vestigate de subjec' 
not long 'fore he died, but nothin' has bin done 
sence. Now, dere is one mo' ting I wants to talk 
'bout. Dere is whol' tousan' acre of fine Ian' jes 
clos' by de ole plantation what massa buy fo' timber 
Ian'. I know dat ain't gone yet; yo' must look ater 
dat. Yo' know I always tol' yo', yo' would mek a 
good lieyur; yo' so smart, and Lord, Posie, yo' does 
love to talk. Yo' see, ater massa died, yo' mamma 
tried to run de plantation wid ' Ole Man ' to help 
her; but dey could not mek nothin'. She was too 
good hearted. It was only getting her in debt, so 
she sole de place ; but she would not sell any ob her 
people. So we all bin a workin' an gettin' on de 
bes' we kin eber sence." 

"Maum Di, what makes every body call me 
Posie? That is not my real name." 

"No, honey, it ain't; but we has called yo' dat 
sence befo' yo' could walk. Yo' was so fond of 



128 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 




AT THE OLD PLANTATION. 



Maum Di^s Confidince Shaken. 129 

flowers ; all we had to do was to put dem in yo' lap 
and dere was n't 'nother word from yo'; yo' jes' 
would sit dere an' play wid dem, an' pick 'em to 
pieces, and zamine dem. Some oh de white folks 
in de house wanted to call yo' Florida, an' Flora, an' 
1 dunno what, but I jes' stick to Posie, an' dey all 
fall in after me ; dem other names is too common." 

"What are you going to do about your money, 
Maum Di?" "Oh, chile, I can't do nothin'. Ole 
man an' me went right off to de head man, an' he sed 
he believe us, but he ca n't do nothin' ceptn we can 
dentify de men. How we gwine dentify dem ? dey 
all look 'like to me. He sa' he got orders to give 
ration to all desarvin' people an' he goin' to begin 
wid us, so dat will help our loss powerful. But we 
was neber goin' to spend dat money unless we was 
'bleege to." 

The conversation came to an end as the negroes 
began to assemble. This was meeting afternoon, 
and the gate was constantly opening and shutting as 
they came in. Pre])arations were begun to accom- 
modate them in the front room ; all the chairs and 
benches from the other rooms were brought in, and 
benches from the yard, and boards laid from one 
half barrel to another, so that all who came had a 



130 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

seat, it mattered not how closely they were packed. 
First, they told each other all the news they had 
heard. Posie was sitting near Maum Di, and Aunt 
Sally near her. " Seems to me, Sis' Linda, we all 
talk mighty free befo' dis chile." " Dat's all right, 
Sis' Sally, what Posie hear in dis house stay right ya 
— she know better dan carry news from one house to 
'nother." Then there was a general hand-shaking 
and feeling of good will. 

Daddy Smart opened the meeting with prayer. 
He was in his element. He prayed until great drops 
of perspiration rolled down his face, and from all 
parts of the room came groans and " Yes, Lord, we 
tryin' to get dere," and " Bro. Smart got de right 
name, he know how fer pray." When absolutely 
exhausted he took his seat, while the congregation 
sang a hymn. By the time they were through, he had 
apparently recovered. After mopping his face again 
and again, he wiped his spectacles, opened his well- 
worn testament, and began : 

" Brudders and sisters de tex' of my sarmon I 
gwine to tek from de twenty-tird psalm ; I gwine 
read yo' de fus two varses of David's confidence in 
de grace of God. ' De Lord is my Shepherd, I 
shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green 



Maiim Dis Coufidtiice SJialun. 131 

pastures, he leadeth me beside de still water.' 
What I bin tellin yo' all dese years, sinners ? Ain't 
it all come true? Ain't yo' fin out de Lord is yo' 
Shepherd, an' at las' he don' mek yo' lie down in 
green pastur', and lead yo' beside de still water? 
Now, brudders and sisters, what I want to 'splain 
and spress on yo' mins is, to keep dem pastur' green, 
an'"dat libin water, pure and clean. Yo' all jes' 
arrive dere, de grass is fresh an' green, de water 
sparkle like diamond. Don't be los' wid yo' good 
luck. De grass ain't gwine to feed yo' an' yo' 
cain't get de diamond out de water. Yo' mus all 
wuk an' start a new life. Yo' is on yo' own 'sponsi- 
bility now, an' eberything depen' on yo' self an' de 
good Shepherd. He only bring yo' ya fo' start off in 
life. Yo' got to strive an' arn de blessing befo' yo'. 
Dis readin' an' knowledge I got, I tank Ciod mos' 
arnestly for — dere is few ob our race what kin read, 
cepn a few ob de house sarvants, like Alice ober dar, 
what Posie has teach so long and faithful. She is 
more like white folks, but is true to her race. But 
times is all change now, my frens. Yo' all hab de 
great exceedin' pleasure of seeing yo' chillun run- 
ning tru de street wid book an' slate in dere bans 



132 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

and can yere dey merry vices singin' de song dat 
dere Northern teachers hab learn deni." 

' Come along, come along, mek no delay, 

Bring yo' books and slate to day; 

And don't yo' be a fool. 

For Uncle Sam is rich enough to sen' yo' all 
to school.' 
" Dis is all right 'bout Uncle Sam, but dere is 
some one back ob dat ole man, for he bin ya long 
time an' he neber think bout sendin' niggers to 
school befo'. It is Massa Abraham Lincoln, he is 
de one we got to look up to ; he is de only marster 
what we gwine raconnize from dis day out. He 
was a po' man, he wuk himself up and now he 
want to see all poor critters get a chance in dis 
worl'. He is a gran', noble Christian. Why br ud- 
ders, an' sisters, tink 'bout what he is to us. Our 
Moses, our eberyting. Neber forget him for a day. 
Pray on yo' bended knees for his glory and gretness, 
an' tech yo' chilluns to glorify him. I 'aint got 
much time for talk dis ebenin', so I gwine to stop 
right ya. Yo' see I got my wuk to do. I got to go 
"on wid my cooperin' an' finish dat bucket befo' 
night. I do all I kin for yo' souls, but I got to arn 
a libin', too. We will close dis sarvice by singin' 
a hymn which is mos' 'propriate for de 'casion :" 



Maum Di's Confidence Shaken. 133 

Oh. Shepherd, whar is yo" ? 
Oh, Shepherd, whar is vo' ? 
Yo' proniis' to min' de sheep 
So well, an' de lam' also^ 
Yes, Lord, an' de lam' also. 

" Oh, Shepherd, whar is yo' 

Oh, Shepherd' whar is yo' 

I see him riding on a 

Milk white hors' an' a 

Sword in his right hand. 
" Yes, Lord, an' a sword in his right hand." 

Then the whole congregation sang after him as he 
repeated two Hnes at a time. " Now, sinner, wid 
dese words of comfort, an' yo' sins on yo' min', all 
who arnestly repent and want to lead a new life, 
come to de mourner bench. De good Shepherd 
says : Come unto me all that labor and is heavy 
laden an' I will gib yo' res'. Sister Linda and Sis 
Sallie will lead the mourners up." One young 
woman arose and walked slowly to the bench. The 
prayer for her soul lasted about an hour, when the 
poor girl, so overcome with the gravity of the situa- 
tion and the enormity of her sins, swooned away. 
She was allowed to lie where she fell. No measures 
were taken to restore her. Maum Di and Aunt 
Sallie sat on the floor besides her while the rest 
sang " Safe in the arms of Jesus." 



134 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

Then the whole congregation formed in a double 
circle around the prostrate girl, the women inside and 
the men on the outside, the women moving to the 
left, the men to the right, shouting and shaking hands 
as the couples passed each other, and singing : 

"John cah de army roun' 
John cah de army roiin' 
John cah de army roun' 
An' meet at de welcom" day." 

"Cold frost df inornin' 
An', John, he was baptize. 
He pick up de cross an" he 
Follow de Lord, an' he 
Meet at de welcom' day." 

Maum Di and Aunt Sallie were left alone now with 
the unconscious girl, who laid in that condition for 
hours, after being placed in another room, where 
they thought it right that she should be left alone. 
Next day she related wonderful visions that appeared 
to her during her " trance," and at next Sunday's 
meeting she was declared a fit subject for baptism 
without any further "seeking," as she "had got 
religion." 

Just as meeting was over and the negroes gone, 
Joe, a man belonging to Posie's uncle, who had a 



Maum Di's Confidence Shaken. 135 

plantation seventy miles or more further south, came 
in. " Well, if dere ain't Joe. How on airth yo' 
get here so quick, an' how yo' year the news ?" 
asked the two women at once. " I)at news gwine tru 
de Ian' like wil' fire ; ebery nigger know it far an' 
near, an' dey all wan' to see de Yankees. I bin on 
de road ober a week an' is plum give out, libin' part 
of de time on cocoanut an' banana an' sleepin' in 
de swamp ; spec' Massa John is mad nuff, but me 
no care. I been a slave long as I gwine to be, an' 
sarved him well long as I 'tend to; now I gwine to 
wuk an' sarve my wife an' chillun. I gwine wuk 
an' strive till I get dem safe in de lines of free- 
dom — safe like me is, den dat is all Joe want ; he 
kin mek de libin for dem dey neber did 'spect to hab. 
I ain't seen none ob dem now for mo' dan a year." 

The great tears stole down his cheeks and his 
massive form trembled. 

"Come now, boy, yo' is narvous an' wore out; 
dis ain't de time for feelin' bad; come in an' eat, 
you will feel better, an' de good Lord is gwine to 
bring yo' wife an' chillun to yo' fo' yo' know it." 
Then Maum Di spread the table for him with her 
heavy white crockery with dark blue borders, three- 
pronged forks, pewter spoons and black horn handled 



136 Posie ; or. From Reveil/e to Retreat. 

knives. There was always warm food in some of 
her closely covered pots in the chimney corner, and 
sweet potatoes covered up in the hot ashes and done 
to a turn, as sweet as honey, so it did not take long 
to ])repare a meal for any of lier many friends. 

That evening Posie told her grandmother that 
Joe had come in, but did not repeat any of the 
conversation, as she well knew Maum I)i did not care 
for "old miss" to hear what Joe said, and, besides, 
it would make her feel badly to hear that he talked 
as he did. The old house was not so quiet and 
cheerless at night now, as it was soon after the fam- 
ily left. Posie's grandmother could keep the lamp 
burning as late as she desired, as she had a special 
permit to do so. Having a son-in-law in the United 
States Army of high rank he had used his influence 
in obtaining many privileges that would add to her 
comfort and jjrotection. He also desired that the 
provost marshal should call and render her any kind- 
ness or attention that was possible, which he did, and 
in a short time Posie, her grandmother and Captain 
Elwot became fast friends. All lights had to be put 
out at nine o'clock, with the exception of a very few, 
and the privilege of burning one was enjoyed even 
more on that account. 



Maum Di's Cottfidcnce Shaken. WM 

There was a strange contrast in the three 
friends — the gray-haired old lady of nearly eighty, 
the little girl, and the gallant young officer. He, 
full of life, expectancy and patriotism — the old lady 
living in the past though cheerful in the present, 
and the little girl just on the threshold of life. 
He loved to be with them, and they looked forward 
to each visit with increasing pleasure and learned 
to look on him as protector and friend. The old 
lady was a constant reader and had a wonderful 
memory. He was also a great reader, so this was 
one of the causes of mutual enjoyment. They ex- 
changed books and always had something in com- 
mon to talk of. Posie was always glad when these 
deep conversations were at an end and she could 
have more attention paid to herself. She was not 
often forgotten, and thought it was her place to en- 
tertain the Captain as well as her grandmother's. 
He, in turn, brought her books and candy done up 
in such lovely boxes, tied with delicate ribbons. He 
complimented her on her progress at school and the 
intelligent way in which she told of what she had 
read. He took an interest in her fancy work, and 
also in her pets, which were numerous. The con- 
stant companionship of older persons inculcated 



188 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 




THE OLD CITY GATES AT ST. AUGUSTINE. 



Mauin DV s Conjidctuc Shaken. 1o9 

a habit of patient listening and observation which 
made her acute in the appreciation of physiognomy 
and character. 

The band and dress parades were great sources of 
pleasure to Posie now. The Captain and herself often 
took long walks together, and they would sit on the 
plaza and rest, and enjoy the music and watch the 
long line of soldiers, perhaps two regiments or more, 
each company a hundred strong. She would some- 
times take him to the spot most sacred to her — the 
cemetery — just outside the city gates, where rested 
the mother she so often told him of. He would sit 
patiently and talk to her while she pulled up every 
little weed that grew on the grave ; nothing was al- 
lowed there but fresh, bright flowers, which she ar- 
ranged with her own little hands at least once a week ; 
so if they were out for a walk on one of these regu- 
lar days for visiting mamma, he had to go with her. 

She would tell him how she used to believe mamma 
could hear and see her, and when there alone 
would have long conversations, arrange and plant 
flowers, and enjoy so much, thinking she was near 
her, that the twilight would steal on unawares. 

Grandma used to get so worried that she was care- 
ful now and always got home early, besides, being 



140 Posic ; or, From Raeilk to Retreat. 

older now, she thought pcrlia|)s the dead tould not 
hear. "What do you think, Captain Elwot?" 
" Don't ask me, little girl, 'we will find out that great 
secret before very long. For ages past the nations of 
the earth have wondered just as you are doing now ; 
great and learned men have tried to solve the prob- 
lem — but we must wait and trust in that kind Father 
into whose great presence your loved ones have 
gone." 

At other times they would wander through the old 
Fort San Marco. She had heard over and over all 
the weird tales in connection with it ; would show 
him the dark chamber, the vaulted roof of which 
was so low they were obliged to walk in a stooping 
position, where a skeleton had been found walled up 
— supposed to be the remains of some poor creature 
tortured by the Spaniards. Then there was the room 
where Coocoachee, the Seminole chief, was confined, 
with the one small, narrow window through which 
he escaped into the moat below, a distance of some 
fifty odd feet, after starving himself sufficiently to 
enable him to stpieeze through the opening, which 
scarcely seemed large enough for a small child to 
pass through. Then she would tell him of the m- 
struments of torture that had been found there sim- 



Mauvi DYs Confidence Shaken. 141 




ROMAN CATHOLIC CATHEDRAL. 



142 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

ilar to those of the Spanish Inquisition; of the tun- 
nel which was supposed to connect the Fort with the 
Roman Catholic Cathedral, and of the many queer 
old Spanish customs which were, until lately, kept 
up in the town. How the devout natives would, 
after crossing themselves with holy water, fall on 
tlieir knees at the door of the old cathedral, and 
make their way to the altar in a kneeling position, 
and remain so, during the entire mass for penance ; 
and how beautiful jiosie altars were erected in dif- 
ferent parts of the town, a statue of the Virgin and 
Child, in each one, -encased in a bower of pure white 
roses. The priests, with altar boys preceding them, 
marched through the streets. One large boy carried 
an immense gilt cross; some were swinging incense; 
while others carried candles. Then came the devout 
nuns in their long white and l)lack veils, never rais- 
ing their eyes, but continually praying their rosaries. 
Then followed in the j)rocession, walking in pairs, 
Catholics of all shades — first the whites, then the 
colored — stopping at each altar, they prayed and 
chanted to the '"Blessed Mother." The funerals 
were conducted on the same order. No one rode 
to the grave but the dead. The coffin lids were 
not put on until just before lowering them into 



Maiim Di s Confidence Shaken. 143 

the grave. So the final ride was made in an open 
hearse and in the open air. 

She told of an old story that she had often heard 
about a " Minorcan " who had a very high-tempered, 
(luarrelsome wife, who, after making life a burden 
to him for many years, died. On the way to the 
graveyard the hearse passed under an acacia tree 
full of small, sharp thorns. Some of the lower 
branches, sweeping over the face, brought her out of 
the trance that she was in, and restored her to the 
suffering husband. After several years more of an- 
guish, on the part of the husband, she again died, and 
the procession was once more about to pass under 
the same tree, when he imploringly begged the driver 
to go to the opposite side of the street. 

"What is a Minorcan?" was the Captain's next 
question. 

"Oh, don't you know? Why, they are the de- 
scendants of some people brought to Florida many 
years ago by a man named Turnbull, who engaged 
them at the island of Minorca (off the coast of Spain) 
with promises of high wages, to go with him on a 
plantation to cultivate indigo. He never kept any 
of his promises, but treated them as if they were 
slaves. They finally ran away, came to St. Angus- 



144 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

tine, and asked protection of the Spanish govern- 
ment, which was given, and these people were the 
first settlers of our little city. 

" They are very sensitive about being called Mi- 
norcans, but why they should be is hard to under- 
stand, for tiiey are an intelligent, high-strung, honor- 
able class of citizens, and some of the leading men 
of this town and other cities were poor Minorcan 
boys." 

Then in the cool of the evening the two friends 
would slowly saunter home on the sea wall and be 
fanned by tlie fresh ocean breeze, and watch the 
tide at its flood, or the waves as they dashed against 
the wall. 

He was an enthusiast in his profession and love 
of country. "The Union must be preserved at any 
cost," he would say. " Posie loved to hear him 
dwell at length upon its attributes, its value, and, 
above all, its power. It was his favorite theme, and 
she was well pleased to listen and would often intro- 
duce the subject. .Sometimes arguments would oc- 
cur as to which side was in the right. She could 
not forget her southern sympathy, although almost 
entirely away from southern influence. " The Yan- 
kees were not ri<rht in doing some of the mean 



Mauin Di's Confide lue Shaken. 145 

things tlicy did, anyhow. When this war is over 
and you liave gone home, that is, if your side wins, 
how different every thing will be ! Why, all of the 
South will be in poverty." "Oh, but the negroes 
should be free at any cost!" "Strikes me that my 
little lady is sarcastic." "Oh, no; but you are so 
determined in all you say — never give the other side 
the ghost of a show." 

In his society she learned to encounter the blows 
that had befallen her and the sorrows she had been 
called upon to bear, and, in time, to convert their 
remembrance into sources of hallowed memories 
rather than of useless regrets. He was her inspira- 
tion, her ideal of a friend, and what her father 
might have been if he only could have lived. She 
always took particular delight to appear well when- 
ever with him, and valued his compliments and 
opinions as much as one of maturer years could 
have done. On one occasion, when her grand- 
mother reproved her in his presence and remarked 
that she would have to deprive her of some pleasure 
if she stayed any later than she had permission to, 
she laughingly replied: "Oh, the deprivation will 
not be very great. Grandma dear, I know that well 
enough." "But, Posie," he said, "it is not the 



146 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

severity of the punishment you should mind, it is 
the principle. You want to grow up with that idea 
and be beyond reproach, jjarticularly when you 
know it is a painful duty for one who has charge of 
you to do any thing but what gives you pleasure." 

Those few words of gentle admonition from him, 
above all others, made a most lasting impression and 
assisted her in bearing her part in the drama of life, 
and influencing the character of others over whom 
she was destined, later in life, to exercise a mother's 
influence. Still, at the time, the child's proud spirit 
rebelled against being lectured. The color mounted 
to her brow, and in an embarrassed air she said : 
"Captain Elwot, you have been so serious lately; 
you do not seem happy any more." "Happy! I 
am more than happy to day. Had good news from 
home. My young friend Prescott was not killed at 
Chickaraauga, as reported, but was taken prisoner 
and has been in Libby for weeks. His relatives 
have all this time mourned him as dead. A friend 
wrote that he had seen him lying dead on the field 
with a bullet wound through his head. Imagine 
their joy at .receiving a letter in his own handwriting 
a few days ago. The rebel prisons are about as bad 
as death now, but still there is hope of getting out 



Maum Di's Coiijidcme Shaken. 147 

of theni, by exchange or escape, and it makes me 
so happy to think that I may see the dear boy again. 
He is much younger than I, but we have been great 
friends for a long time — went to school together and 
visited each other during vacation. He is a grand, 
noble fellow, and deserves a bright future, and not 
to die by a rebel's bullet, nor in their miserable 
prisons " 

The color again mounted to the child's brow. 
Can all this be true, she soliloquized, or is it exag- 
geration ? Can our ])eople be as cruel as he thinks? 
Starve, ill-treat, and degrade helpless prisoners? 
Oh ! he is so bitter ; has a severe, unkind expression, 
never seen before. 

Thus it was that the leaves of doubt, sorrow, and 
experience were gradually unfolded to little Posie. 

She learned also, about this time, another valuable 
lesson, that all is not gold that glitters. A cousin 
of hers sent two books, one with a very handsome 
red and gold cover, the other a })lain brown one. 
Posie was to take her choice and give the other to 
a friend of hers. She decided immediately in favor 
of the red and gold one without even looking inside. 
After the excitement was over, she was disappointed 
tc find that her friend had a series of most enter- 



148 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

taining fairy tales, while her book was poetry, some- 
thing she never did delight in; but her little friend 
was generous and they wore the book out between 
them, reading and re-reading it. These two little 
friends spent many haj^py hours together ; when they 
would tire of books, there was much in the subtle 
influence of the perfect climate and bright sunshine 
to lure them out. There was no longer any lack of 
confidence in the soldiers; Posie loved to have them 
come into the yard. They made the finest swings 
and hammocks under the large, shady trees, helped 
her find the troublesome places on the maps, and 
learn the definitions in spelling. She in turn would 
make them lemonade with fruit fresh from the trees, 
and bring them some of grandma's cake. There 
would often be a suspicious glisten in their eyes as 
they talked of home and the loved ones there. How 
could any thing that was pleasant last for any length 
of time during a war so dreadful ? 

The New Hampshire Volunteers, with (Captain 
El wot and all of her many good friends, were or- 
dered away, and, what was worse, right into the 
thickest of the strife. How many would ever return 
to those at home, who were watching and waiting? 
They were to pass the house on their march to the 



Maum Di's Cotifidcncc SJiakcn. 149 

boats that were to convey them away and bring 
others in their place. Posie was busy all the morn- 
ing of the day they left, making little boquets to 
throw to them as they passed — it was the last com- 
pliment she would be able to bestow, and show them 
that there was one little heart that grieved to have 
them go. She could hear the band playing and see 
the regiment advancing in broken ranks, as it was 
a hot day and the march was long. As they passed 
along under the piazza, she began throwing the 
flowers and waving good-bye for the last time. Few 
were trampled underfoot ; most were rescued and 
adorned their bayonets as they marched down the 
street with a hurrah and farewell for little Posie. 

For some days after the regiment left every thing 
seemed dull and lifeless again, but Alice returned 
about this time with avowed intentions of never 
leaving home again. She had been fully satisfied 
with sight-seeing; "never had worked so hard in 
her life." She had taken the position of assistant 
laundress on one of the boats. Her hands were one 
mass of blisters, so sore that she could not use them. 
She had never before done a hard day's work — in 
fact, had done little or nothing but wait on Posie 
and her grandmother, so that her hands were about 



1 ^O Poste ; 0}\ From Reveille to Retreat. 

as soft as Posie's. She settled down again to the 
regular old routine, and they enjoyed their evenings 
of fun and study together even more than before. 

The war waged on in all its fury. They heard 
of the fearful battles and of the frightful suffering 
of those in prison, but it was far removed from St. 
Augustine ; all was quiet there, except an occasional 
attack by Dickerson's company on any small party 
of Union soldiers who would venture outside the 
town, generally to cut wood. They would appear, 
capture them, and disappear again, much on the 
Robin Hood order. 

Then they heard of the surrender of Lee. The 
South had given up its useless strife. The war was 
over. Finally there came, like a mighty blast, 
through the land the news of the assassination of 
President Lincoln. The grief and indignation of the 
people were terrible. The whole nation mourned, 
business was paralyzed, and men's only thought 
was for revenge. The South realized that it had 
lost the one most needed for the trying ordeal through 
which it was still to pass, and, as time wore on, 
it appreciated more and more his true, noble 
character — " With charity towards all and malice to 
none." 



Ma inn Dis Confidence Shaken. 151 

For two weeks the dear old grandmother had been 
confined to bed. Posie waited on her as only those 
who love can. There were always kind friends to 
assist, and the negroes were more than faithful. 
Maum Di, Granny Mary and Alice were ever ready. 
This night no one doubted but that it was her last 
on earth. Posie never rested a moment, but 
wandered over the house with feverish restlessness, 
then outside to the porch steps which led into the 
flower garden, and on which the three negro women 
sat, watching and waiting, as they said, "The com- 
ing of the Bridegroom," talking of death and other 
weird topics. 

The screeching of an owl as it passed over the 
house was an ominous sign to them. " Hear dat," 
said granny Mary, " dats a sure message. Ole 
Miss gwine 'cross de bar' fo' mornin'. De blessed 
mos' always hab dese peaceful nights to start. I bin 
in dis worl' an' mos' blin' dese many years. Yo' all 
kin see an' enjoy de beautiful tings de T.ord has put 
ya; I can only tink 'bout dem as dey used to look. 
Yo' say de moon is bright; it looks dull nuff to me, 
but I tell yo' my sight is good nuff" 'bout seein' into 
what gwine happen. I kin tell the meanin' of mos' 
any dream. Yo' know my mammy was a reglar 



152 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

Congo nigger an' she larn dis fum way back. 
Africa is a ole nation an' dey knows dere mo' dan 
de white people tinks dey knows. Mammy's soul 
used to trabble way off when her body was sleep — 
so does mine ; I kin see well 'nuff den, sure yo' 
born. Sometimes de sperrit goes clean to Africa 
and I kin see ebery ting she used to tell me 'bout. 
Den sometimes it goes to strange worl's whar ebery 
ting is mos' curis, and sometime fairly meks de har 
Stan' straight on my head. I kin see and talk wid 
de dead an' den the soul comes back an' weeks up 
de body, an' if I put bad mouth on anybody dey 
jus' as well to neber spec' no mo' good luck." 

For a time all was quiet ; so still was it, that the 
beating of their hearts could almost be heard. The 
flowers, the trees, in fact, all nature seemed bathed 
in the light of the soft summer moon, which seemed 
to spread a halo of glory around the heads of the 
faithful ex slaves. She left them again and returned 
to the room where two silent watchers sat by the bed 
of her beloved. She stood there watching the calm, 
peaceful face and listening to the low irregular 
breathing, trying to still the beating of her own heart 
and nerve herself for the inevitable. 

Overwhelmed by a terrible fear which took posses- 



Maum D't s Confidence Shaken. 153 

sion of her, she left the room and entered the parlor, 
and dropped softly on her knees by a large cushioned 
chair, with her little head resting on her hands, and 
prayed the Almighty parent in behalf of the earthly 
one. 

As she knelt meekly there, feeling that she must 
look again and again at that dear old face, her eyes 
rested on the portrait of her father which hung on 
the wall, and from whose kind, noble face seemed 
to come these words: "You are not alone, my 
child. God will raise a protector." Then there 
seemed to steal over her an inability to think further 
—the little head droj^ped, the nerves and muscles 
relaxed, and the child slept. 

Gliding gently over the bar, with the out going 
tide, into the tranquil sea, she could see a boat 
ladened with pure, white flowers keeping unerringly 
in the glittering path of the moon. At the helm 
stood a youth. On this fragrant bed at the bow lay 
the calm, peaceful form, just awakening and with 
outstretched arms, eagerly calls her long lost boy. 
He, pointing beyond, exclaims: "Wait! Wait! my 
mother, we still must farther go." Then sweet 
music from a heavenly choir fills the air, and chil- 
dren and loved ones, from whom she had been 



154 Posie : or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

parted for years, lift the tired form and waft it to 
realms of bliss. 

When Posie wakened, it was day, and by the gray 
light she stole into the death chamber. All was over. 
The spirit had returned to the (lod who gave it. 
There, resting on the bed as if asleep, lay all that 
was earthly of the once dear mother, companion, 
friend. Posie had many friends who kindly cared 
for her during this bereavement. She spent little 
time in her old home and much of it with her old 
friend, Mrs. Mahnud, who tried to divert her mind 
with any thing that gave her pleasure, and console 
her with the idea that her dear sisters and loved ones 
would soon be home now the war was over. 

Several months passed ; the little companion who 
was with her so much and herself were taking a walk 
down to the wharf to watch the steamer come in, that 
had been sighted at sea some hours before. On the 
street they passed a young woman of about seven- 
teen, walking alone, stylishly, though plainly, dressed, 
and beautiful. "Who can that be?" said Posie, 
"She is the loveliest looking girl I ever saw." 
They ])assed on, still talking of the sweet, beautiful 
face. Then they passed two more girls of about 
fifteen. •' Well, here are two more strangers; guess 



Maum Di's Confidence Shaken. 155 

the boat is already in and we have missed the fun," 
suggested Mamie. Then still another stranger ap- 
proached, and in her, Posie recognized with joy her 
aunt. She had changed but little, but her sisters and 
cousin had grown from her recollection. She re- 
membered them as the little girls who had left her 
four years before. The old home was bright again 
with the happy reunion, but they all sadly missed 
the dear old grandmother in the large rocking-chair, 
which was still in its accustomed place. 

Posie had many pleasures now in the companion- 
ship of her sisters and cousins, but she also had 
trials, for they were bright, jolly girls, full of jjranks 
and nonsense, and Posie's set little ways were often 
sources of amusement to them, and they often en- 
joyed a joke at her expense. She was proud and 
independent, and quick to resent any thing she con- 
sidered rude ; she had been allowed so much liberty 
that discipline was annoying, and sometimes even 
the merriment of the girls was depressing. Her life 
was entirely changed. She had regular hours for 
reading, study, and sewing, and, instead of going to 
walk and play as the fancy suited, she had regular 
hours for recreation also. She slept in the room 
with her youngest cousin. They had formed a 



] 56 Posie ; or, From Rei'eille to Retreat. 

genuine friendship. Bessie was quiet and dignified. 
The others were too full of fun and i)ranks to suit 
Posie. 

One night, just as they were about to retire, she 
heard her sister coming with a little mulatto girl to 
get her bedding, which was kept on the garret steps 
during the day. This little girl was a great pet in 
family, and was the daughter of one of their former 
slaves, and was with them on a visit from another 
part of the state. There was often a dispute as to 
whose room the little pallet should be made down 
in. This night she was the guest of Posie's youngest 
sister, who had been enjoying some fun that day at 
both Posie's and Bessie's expense. There was a 
small window that opened on to the garret stairs. 
From the room they were in, they could hear the 
two as they passed the room with candle in hand on 
the way to the stairs discussing the darkness of the 
garret. Now was Posie's chance for a joke. Like 
a flash the idea passed through her mind, and, re- 
gardless of Bessie's "You better not," she was 
through the little window and up into darkness at 
the top of the stairs in a moment. There she stood 
in her white gown, waiting for the two. They tried 
to open the door, but it would not o]>en at first ; the 



Maum Di's Confidence Shaken. 157 

dampness had swelled it. Then, again, they pulled 
and it opened with a burst. As they both peered 
into the darkness, the outlines of the little white 
figure were clearly discernible. 

With a rush they both ran screaming that they had 
seen a ghost, and nothing could convince them to 
the contrary, although their aunt even threatened to 
send them to again investigate if they persisted in 
such arrant nonsense. Posie was back and in bed 
as quickly as she had gone up. Bessie thought it 
was wrong, but it was over now and could not be 
helped. Posie, too, had many misgivings, but they 
thought it best to be quiet and wait for results. 

Next day nothing else was talked of, but they 
were finally, against their will, induced to believe 
that it was only vivid imagination and fear of the 
garret. Next night Posie confessed, and acknowl- 
edged that it was rather a severe way to assert her 
dignity. 

The restraint and influence of good schools, the 
never ceasing vigilance of the noble aunt, who had 
given up her entire life to the care and training of 
her sister's children, the over indulgence of her 
early life, and the respect and authority she had 
gained over the negroes, all had their different 



158 Posic ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

effects on Posie, and as years crept on and the 
young girl grew into womanhood her manner ac- 
quired a tone of dignity which commanded respect, 
and she had learned the great secret of hapj)iness — 
that in living for others we gain the only perfect 
pleasure that can be attained ; for, when we sur- 
mount an obstacle in our own behalf and have 
achieved the desired end, there is in it always a 
certain lack of pleasure; but it is different when it 
concerns the object of our love. We then can 
see but the one point. The goal is reached — 
Victory ! 



/ 



An Old Fncnd. 159 



CHAPTER VI. 



AN OLD FRIEND. 



Farf.well to Whipple Barracks, its genial climate, 
and the many good friends we made there. Two 
happy, quiet years — but now Major Prescott is pro- 
moted and will join a regiment in Montana ; another 
long trip, but this time all the way by cars, as Fort 
Keogh is on the railroad. 

We arrived there in the fall, spent a long, long 
winter sealed up in the house, with the thermom- 
eter at times forty degrees below zero. 

The three following winters were exactly like the 
first, only some were colder than others. The sum- 
mers were as hot as the winters were cold, and no 
Florida swamp ever produced such lively, energetic 
mosquitoes. 

Four years of life wasted, had it not been for the 
time we had in which to instruct the children, and 
for the progress they made in their studies, and the 
strong constitutions they gained from the vigorous 
climate — and our social life — for Fort Keogh was very 



160 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

gay. The garrison consisted of nine companies of 
infantry and two troops of cavalry. 

The hop room, where all the general entertain- 
ments took place, was a large "squad room " on 
the second floor of a set of soldiers' quarters. 

The room was appropriately decorated with flags, 
side arms, guns, etc., while pretty curtains at all of 
the numerous windows gave the place a cozy, at- 
tractive appearance. The floor was so smoothly 
polished that it was a dream of pleasure to dance 
upon it to the music of the fine regimental orchestra ; 
and when the many handsome, well dressed ladies of 
the garrison and their pretty daughters assembled, 
escorted by admiring husbands and devoted sweet- 
hearts in their bright becoming unforms, it was hard 
to realize that we were out on the frontier. 

The suppers were served in a room below, which 
was chapel and school room, and were a wonder in 
elegance, j^repared by the ladies, who vied with each 
other, as to whose salad, boned turkey, frozen punch, 
ice cream, cake or hot rolls were the best. The 
service was ordinary decorated china and plated sil- 
ver, bought by the officers of the regiment, and kept 
at the hop room expressly for entertainments. 

The children of the post had dancing school once 



An Old Friend. 161 

a week, taught by one of the ladies, who was an ex- 
pert in the terpsichorean art. Was it to be wondered 
at, that the mothers assembled there, to watch their 
little ones, daintily dressed in becoming govvns made 
by themselves during their leisure hours, should 
marvel over their grace and beauty and imagine that 
they were destined to some grand future, which but 
a few realize ? 

There was a stage at one end of the room, with 
drop curtain and scenery, all the production of home 
talent. Here, to vary the monotony, would be 
given private theatricals, which were truly creditable, 
but as we were so far away from civilization and saw 
so little and were in such a "narrow rut," every 
thing was overrated; and, as the audience would 
look on in delight and admiration, we would wonder 

why Captain B , or Mrs. Lieutenant C , had 

not adopted the stage as a profession; and when 
some pleasing little ballad was sung we could detect 
certain notes which it would be hard for an artist to 
rival. But the most entertaining performance that 
we had was the children's theatricals. The parents 
were now prouder than ever, for not only grace and 
beauty were brought forth, but talent and hard 
study. They danced, sang, and acted with so much 



162 Posie ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

ease that I doubt not that the most critical audience 
in one of our eastern cities would have been highly 
entertained. 

The charm of P'ort Keogh during these four years 
was that the Indians were at ])eace, so that we had 
little else to do but make ourselves as comfortable as 
possible, running up great bills for ice in summer 
and bigger ones for coal in winter. Most of our 
luxuries, such as chickens, eggs, servants, etc., were 
shipped from St. Paul. After paying railroad fare, 
etc., for a domestic, it was not an uncommon thing 
for her to inform you in two or three months that 
you would have to send for some one else, as she 
was shortly to be married, and was going to house- 
keeping on her own account. 

But the most exciting events at Fort Keogh were 
Fourth of July, and when the Secretary of War or 
some other grand mogul and his parly from Wash- 
ington would stop over on their way to the Pacific 
coast. 

On the Fourth of July, we would have all sorts of 
athletic sports on the parade ground, with greased 
pig and greased i)olc accompaniment, fire-works in 
abundance, and lemonade by the barrel for the whole 
command. 



An Old Fnend.- 1()3 

When the grand moguls would appear, the band 
would play, the cannon roar, the troops turn out in 
force, and the ladies, dressed in their best, would 
assemble at the commanding officer's quarters to re- 
ceive them. 

A handsome lunch was served, and Indians in 
paint and feathers would dance and whoop on the 
parade for their entertainment. 

The party would depart well pleased, thinking 
frontier life a great novelty, but they might change 
their minds if located there for any length of time. 

From Fort Keogh we went to Fort Totten, Da- 
kota, situated on Devil's Lake, a beautiful little post 
in summer, but colder in winter than even Fort 
Keogh; for here a chinook wind never tempers the 
air. 

In the fall, the heavy storm doors were put up 
and storm windows screwed on, which gave one the 
feeling of being entombed; and when the little 
steamer slopped running from Devil's Lake City, a 
small town twelve miles away, and when even the 
wild ducks and wild geese left us, we indeed felt 
alone. 

The snow was so deep that it stood above our 
heads as we walked through the paths which were 



164 Posie ; or, J^rom Reveille to Retreat. 

shoveled out from one set of quarters to another ; 
and, when we would go for a little needed exercise, 
we would greet our friends with: "It is real mild 
to-day; only about thirty below zero." But our 
home was bright and cheerful ; beautiful potted 
plants bloomed in the windows, and the bright ge- 
ranium blossoms were a striking contrast to the end- 
less pall of snow without. 

Howard had left us in the fall for school. The 
sadness of this first break in our little family circle 
was lessened by the idea that with Christmas he 
would return, bringing with him a schoolmate of 
whom the children were very fond. 

The railroad station, which was twelve miles away, 
consisted of one house, and was our only means of 
communication with the outside world. It was a 
perfectly flat prairie country the entire twelve miles, 
and after a storm the drivers had to guess at the 
road and follow the direction of the post. 

The day before Christmas at last arrived ; the boys 
would be in at five, just in time for dinner. Such 
preparations as we all made that day, including a 
large Christmas tree loaded with presents that came 
in a box from the east! The children were wild 



A;t Old Friend. 165 

with excitement. "Howard coming! and a Christ- 
mas tree !" all the same night. 

Nannie, our colored cook, was going to have an 
elaborate dinner for Howard both to-night and to- 
morrow night. "Law! Mrs. Prescott. I ain't 
going to let the rest of you beat me preparing for 
our boy." 

Just before five all of the lamps in the house were 
lighted and many candles that we had procured for 
the occasion. The table was spread with our pret- 
tiest china and glass, a dainty bowl of flowers 
adorned the center, and the odor of coffee and roast 
turkey came from the kitchen. We all scraped little 
peep-holes in the frost on the windows, so as to be 
able to watch for the sleigh. Five o'clock came and 
we expected to see it every moment. The children 
clapped their hands and hurrahed. 

Then, after what seemed an endless time, the 
clock struck six ; the wind began to rise, the light 
snow was flying in the air, and nothing could be 
seen but the earth in its vast winding-sheet, the 
drifting snow, and the dark gathering clouds. 

No sounds were audible except the shrieking of 
the wind without and the ticking of the clock within. 
Seven o'clock came, and then eight ; the Colonel put 



166 Posic ; or, Frotn Reveille to Retreat. 

on his buffalo coat and went out; Nannie came into 
the sitting-room with a long face, saying, " My din- 
ner is all dried up, Mrs. Prescott ;" but as she 
looked around and saw our troubled faces, and poor 
little "Roxy" overcome with sleep on the sofa, she 
forgot her own woes and began to comfort us: "The 
train is late; that is the matter, I just know." 

At nine o'clock the Colonel returned, walked up 
and down in front of the stove for a few moments, 
and then went out again. 

The wind was growing fiercer, and there was 
every indication of a blizzard. Why was the sleigh 
delayed ? 

The mules came into the post just about this time, 
but alone, no sleigh. The Colonel returned to the 
house for a few moments to tell us that he was going 
to send out a search party. The candles were 
flickering in their sockets, and some of the lamps 
were growing as faint as our hearts, when we heard 
the crisp crunching snow under the feet of what 
sounded like several people. The front door burst 
open and in walked our boy, his friend, and a young 
officer who had gone to meet them. 

They had met with all sorts of misfortunes. The 
drifting snow had covered all the old tracks, and 



An Old Friend. . 167 

the covered sleigli, wliich was an awkward affair, 
had upset in a drift. Work as they might they 
could not get it up again, so they cut the mules 
loose and sent them in ahead. 

Such a blue, cold looking trio ! Icicles and frost 
from their frozen breaths hung from their buffalo 
coat collars and fur caps, which were also white with 
snow. So we received more than is usual for one little 
family — three genuine specimens of Santa Claus. 

After cordial greetings and warm embraces, inter- 
spersed with numerous jokes, they took a seat near 
the cheerful fire, and were soon thawed out. New 
candles now took the place of old ones, and we began 
our Christmas festival, which lasted for two weeks, 
when the boys returned to school. 

After a year at Fort Totten, the regiment was or- 
dered to Texas ; and we hailed the move with joy, 
for we could at least be out of doors. 

We left Totten in the spring of the year with no 
regrets; every thing was still cold and bleak. From 
Bismark, where the regiment concentrated, we took 
two steamers to go down the Missouri as far as Kan- 
sas City. 

We had, during the river trip, a dreadful time ; 
first one steamer would strike a snag, and then the 



168 Posic : oi\ From Reveille to Retreat. 

other. Sometimes we would be all day on a sand- 
bar, while the other steamer waited patiently by until 
we got off. Then the first thing we knew the other 
steamer would be aground, and it would be our turn 
to lay near and wait. 

After two weeks we managed to get as far as 
Umaha. A new bridge had just been completed 
across the river, but the piers of the old one liad 
not yet been removed, so it left quite a narrow 
opening for the steamers. The river was booming 
and the current was very swift. 

The first boat under full steam dashed through all 
right — next came ours ; we passed the old pier 
safely, but if the pilot had tried he could not have 
more accurately struck the new one. There was a 
fearful crash, and part of the boat's side was torn 
off It staggered and trembled, then righted itself 
in the middle of the seething, muddy torrent, but 
going down stream and under a full head of steam. 
The pilot steered for the shore. It was all the 
work of a few mmutes, but cool heads and discipline 
were equal to the emergency. 

No sound arose, but the commands of the officers 
and the tread of the soldiers as they fell in line on 
each side of the upper deck, so as to balance the 



An Old Friend. 169 

boat. The officers saw at a glance that there was 
no chance to lower small boats, all must share a 
common fate. 

We stood in silence, with blanched faces, watch- 
ing the water bubble up from below ; then the 
machinery stopped and the boat began to sink. 
We were about a hundred yards from shore when it 
finally settled, and left the ujjper deck above water 
and all of us safe and dry. 

The small boats were now utilized in making a 
pontoon bridge to the shore, by means of which we 
all landed, leaving the baggage un<;Jer many feet of 
water, or floating down stream. 

From Omaha we took the train, and it was delight- 
ful to arrive at San Antonio at its most agreeable 
season, neither too cold nor too hot. All the 
windows at the hotel were open to admit the soft 
air. 

Was it a dream ? From the veranda could be 
seen the crepe myrtle, the fig and the oleander, 
while outside you heard the Spanish tongue, and saw 
the old Mexican houses, the narrow streets and the 
Alamo. 

Was it St. Augustine ? Had the old cathedral 
become smaller by age ? 



170 Posic ; or, Frotn Reveille to Retreat. 

Instinctively I looked for the old fort and sea wall. 
This delightful reverie was interrupted by Colonel 
Pr'^scott, who came in with his bright, jovial manner, 
and his eyes sparkling as if he too had taken up a 
new lease of life. •' I have a pleasure in store for 
you, my dear. Who do you suppose is in San An- 
tonio ? Vou would never guess in a lifetime. An 
old friend of ours, and he is just about wild to see 
you. Come right down to the parlor. He is wait- 
ing there now. He has the advantage of you, as he 
saw our arrival in the paper." 

I soon followed the Colonel, who had returned 
immediately to the parlor. On entering the room, I 
saw a merry twinkle in the eyes of both gentlemen. 
" Mrs. Prescott, allow me to introduce Colonel — " 

As if awakening from a dream, Posie saw almost 
at a glance in the old veteran the noble young ofificer 
of 1861. "Why, Colonel Elwot !" 

The children then all had to report. Florida, al- 
though she had never seen him, had taken her 
mother's place and had corresponded with him for 
majiy years. " He had sent her candy done up in such 
pretty boxes, and tied up with such lovely ribbons ;" 
had sent her books and magazines; in fact, was her 



An Old Friend. 171 

ideal hero, particularly since she had heard the little 
story of Posie. 

All the children hung around him in wonder and 
delight, expecting something new at any moment, 
and seemed always to have known him. Feeling in 
his coat pocket, he produced a little package. 
" Here is something I want to show you which I 
have had for a very long time, and brought with me 
to-day for you children." 

A queer little letter, dated 1863, a childish round 
hand with expressions of affection, and a yearning 
to see her old friend again as shown in the question, 
" Do you think that you will ever come back ?" 

In the same envelope was a quaint little picture, 
so stiff and prim, with the hair parted in the middle 
and brushed straight down so that every hair stayed 
in place. The costume was as prim as the hair. 
Posie had evidently dressed for the occasion. A 
lock of blonde hair tied with blue ribbon completed 
the mementoes. "When you think you can take 
good care of these, and will value them, you can 
have them, Florida, unless your father wants them 
now." 

"Oh, no!" laughingly replied Colonel Prescott. 
" I have the original ; you can keep the picture." 



172 Posie ; or, Frovi Reveille to Retreat. 

After that Colonel Elwot frequently visited his old 
friend's family, where he always received a hearty 
welcome. 

Our sojourn at San Antonio was short. From 
there we went to Fort Davis, and were again obliged 
to send Howard off to school. As the other chil- 
dren also needed the advantages of good schools, it 
made us anxious for the last grade that the Colonel 
could make by regular promotion (full colonel of a 
regiment). After two years' waiting the good news 
came ; not only news of his promotion, but news 
also that it would carry us east, to one of the modern 
posts, near a large city, where Howard could be at 
home, and where the other children could likewise 
have numerous advantages. 



Years After. 173 



CHAPTER VII. 

YEARS AFTER. 

Duty and circumstances had called Posie away for 
many, many years from "the little city by the sea," 
but as time rolls on the desire for familiar places and 
old friends becomes so much a part of her being 
that she is now there, even if only for a short space 
of time. All is changed — the city and its inhab- 
itants. In place of old landmarks tower up the 
palatial hotels of Northern enterprise, filled with 
wealthy guests, where sweet music is discoursed day 
and night by noted bands, and where grounds are 
filled with beautiful flowers that seem to rival the 
electric lights at night, which appear in every con- 
ceivable nook and corner of their grand surroundings. 
Uncle Tony's band is no more; but "Mr. Wel- 
tus," as he is now called, seems to have lived con- 
tinually near the fountain of youth, the Ponce de 
Leon springs, and steps around actively, taking a 
general interest in life. Marm Di, Daddy Smart, 
and Alice have gone to the great world beyond, to 



1 74 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

the " Blessed Marster," whom they loved, served, 
and earnestly believed in. 

The streets are gay and full of strange people. 
You hear no more the sweet S[)anish tongue as you 
walk along; no " buenos dias, senora,'' or "me ale- 
gro mucho verle a v. en buena salud." The jtresent 
generation can not even understand it. All the old 
customs have died with the language. 

The vestibule cars and telegraph have taken the 
place of the old stage coach and wagons. The old 
fort, barracks, and sea wall remain much the same. 
On the plaza, where the flag-staff was cut down, is a 
monument erected to the memory of those of the 
"Blues" and " Beauregards " who fell in that 
dreadful four years' struggle. It is a token of love 
from some of the very ladies under whose hands the 
" stately pine fell;'' and as Posie wanders through 
the narrow old streets with her bright little daughter 
of nine as a companion, whose associations have all 
been in a northern clime, and to whom all at the 
South seems strange, they pass the old home, It is 
all remodeled now, and has gone into other hands. 
From the open door and windows come the sound 
of children's merry voices — where are the ones who 
were there long ago ? 



Years After. 175 

" Some have gone to lands far distant, 

v\nd with strangers made their lionie; 
Sijine upon the world of waters 

All their lives are forced to roam; 
Some have gone from ns forever — 

Longer here they miglit not stay— 
They have reached a fairer region, 

Faraway! Faraway!" 

Then they stop at the old house where Posie's 
friend used to live, and for whom she risked so much 
in saving her treasures and storing them away in the 
garret more than a quarter of a century before. A 
knock brought an old, decrepit woman to the door, 
bent with age, and all marks of beauty gone save 
the mass of snow white hair, which appeared like a 
halo of burnished silver as the sun shone on it 
through the half-opened door. There was an intelli- 
gent, high born air in the old lady as she asked what 
was wanted. " Does Mrs. Williard live here?" was 
the response, " and can she be seen? " " Yes, in- 
deed, walk right in." There was no sign of carpets, 
but the floors were as white as scrubbing could 
make them. Cheap muslin curtains hung at the 
windows, and the furniture was of the poorest kind. 
Any one but Posie might have wondered why, in 



176 Posic ; or, From Reveille to Retreat. 

such a room, such things of elegance should appear — 
beautiful pictures, the most conspicuous of which was 
the Madonna and Child, massive brass andirons and 
fender, and beautiful pieces of bric-a-brac. So taken 
up with these familiar sights and with thoughts 
of the past, and of her old friend as she was twenty- 
five years before that, Posie forgot for a moment the 
old woman by her side. " Pray, be seated, madam, 
and what is it that Mrs. Williard can do for you?" 
said the old lady, taking a seat without waiting 
further. " I can not stand very long at a time, you 
see." The eyes of the two friends met and there 
seemed to be a mutual recognition, for there was a 
fire in the dark, deepset old eyes that told of some- 
thing in the past which was recalled. "We have 
both changed much in all these years," began Posie, 
" Do you remember having a little friend abcut nine 
years old during the war?" "Yes, yes," said the 
old lady, "and I have felt strangely ever since your 
little girl came into the room, for as soon as I laid 
my eyes on her it made me think of Posie, whom I 
have never forgotten to this day," and drawing her 
chair nearer she laid her head on the younger 
woman's shoulder and wept like a child. "It is 
you, dear Posie, come back after so long an absence. 



Yi^ars After. 177 

My heart is sad enough at times. All of my chil- 
dren are gone, not one left to comfort my old age ; 
my nearest and dearest friends are my former slaves. 
You knew most of them. Do you remember Sallie ? 
She became well off financially, by thrift and good 
management, and has cared for me for years as faith- 
fully as if I were her mother, instead of her former 
mistress. She comes herself once a week and 
scrubs my floors, and every thing on earth I have, 
or need, comes from her, except my dear old relics 
of former days which you saved and stored away. 
They have been a constant source of pleasure and 
comfort to me, and sometimes I can almost imagine 
that the old home is as it used to be. You find your 
old home greatly changed, my child, and not one of 
the dear ones left — all gone ! all gone ! Years ago, 
when it was sold and all the old thrash in the garret 
given or thrown away, there was an old hair covered 
trunk full of old papers that I had heard spoken of 
in the family. I begged to be allowed to keep them, 
and stored them safely in my garret, thinking some 
day that they would be of use — that some of you 
would come back. Now, Posie, you can look over 
them at your leisure — they are yours — and may 
they bring you as much substantial pleasure as my 



178 Posie ; or, From Revci/k io Retreat. 

treasures have brought ine, which you hid so long 
ago." 

When Posie called again on Mrs. Williard, true to 
her promise, she had the old hair covered trunk, 
with its brass bands and large brass lock, in a room 
where they could both sit and not be disturbed. 
Moths and age had divested it of most of the hair, 
but the leather was still strong, and through all these 
years the key still stayed with the lock. At first it 
seemed riveted, but after oil had been administered 
for some time, it oi)ened with a strange and unfamiliar 
clank which made bt)th the investigators start. 
What a strange collection met their gaze ! Relics of 
the dead. An old uniform that almost fell ajjart as 
they lifted it uj). Daintily made baby clothes, now 
brown with age, made by some gentle hand whose 
little one never needed them. All sorts of old 
trinkets; a box of intaglios, and inside the lid still 
clearly could be read : " Brought from the Mediter- 
ranean by H. M. S." Then there was the mass of 
old letters and papers, some yellow and moth-eaten, 
some as if they had been wet. One of the first 
opened was in a large boyish hand : 



Years After. 179 

" At School," Z^^i". 12, 1835. 
My dear and only Aunt : 

It is a dark, gloomy day — when all nature seems 
to frown rather than rejoice at the coming of the 
holidays, as I do, when we will be together again. 

Your last letter made me very sad. You will be 
spared to me. I know your health will be restored, 
and that we will again be happy together. When 1 
am a man you will lean on me for comfort and love, 
as I have on you ever since my earliest recollection. 

(live my love to dear Mauni Di and Daddy Smart, 
and tell them to take good care of my horse and 
dog. How I long to scamper through the country 
with them again, never stopping for hedge or ditch ! 

I fully realize now how easy my life has been, and 
how you have loved and indulged me. The re- 
straint of school at times almost drives me wild. 
Your affectionate nephew, 

H. M. S. 

The next oj)ened was evidently from the boy's 
father, written in 1820 to a friend in Maine: 



180 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

" U. S. Schooner . 

My Dear Harrison : 

This will likely be my last letter to you for some 
time, as we sail under sealed orders for the Mediter- 
ranean to-morrow. This will be my last voyage, as 
I intend to resign as soon as I return. 

My boy is now a year old. He is fine, but not as 
robust as I should like to see him. We will spend 
much of our time in Portland, when I am my own 
master. Then, in the i)ure, vigorous, salt air of my 
native state, I hope to see my boy grow to man- 
hood. 

We have enough of this world's goods to be inde- 
pendent. I have managed my own affairs much 
better than I ever anticipated, and my wife's inher- 
itance in New York City is in excellent shape. 
Much of the property is rented, which brings in 
good returns, while the rest of it is constantly in- 
creasing in value. I am getting to be cpiile a busi- 
ness man. You will laugh when you read this, but 
indeed it is so. 

My wife could never l)e happy if I remained in 
the navy. She dreads this separation, but I cheer 
her with the promise of its being the last. I am 
more than anxious that you, the dearest friend of 



y^ars After. 181 

my youth, should know my southern wife. I will 
only say this of my happiness, that I thank God for 
the good fortune which brought our ship into the 
port where fate has intrusted to my love and protec- 
tion the noblest and fairest woman of that sunny 
land. 

So now, my dear friend, with bright anticipations 
of an eventful and interesting voyage, and a safe 
and speedy return, 

I am. 

Yours as ever, 

H. M. S ." 

As they continued to open the parcels, each one 
became more interesting. Records which told of 
valuable property which had been owned by Posie's 
father up to the time he was fifteen years old ; lots 
on Mott, Grand, Orange, and Hester streets, in 
New York City, of which he had never heard, until 
he received a letter asking him to sign a quitclaim 
deed. 

The records also showed that H. M. S , Jr., 

was a great-grandson of Nicholas Bayard, and that 
from him this inheritance had descended. His 



182 Posie ; or. From Reveille to Retreat. 

mother was born in New York, but had come to 
Florida with her parents when very young. 

"Now, you see, Posie," said Mrs. WIHiard, "your 
father knew nothing of business. Left as a bab)' 
with a fortune, he was indulged, petted, and brought 
up in extravagance. After graduating at the Naval 
Academy, his estate was turned over to him. He 
resigned in a few years and began the life of a 
planter, but his affairs were so mixed up that he had 
to resort to the law, which seemed at that time to 
promise all that he could desire, when the stern 
hand of death took hold. He discovered, when 
almost too late, that his property had been in the 
hands of incompetent administrators, who grossly 
neglected their duty, as is shown by this letter, 
written by a New York lawyer to your father's law- 
yer here :" 

"As to the deed sent to Mr. S. for execution, I 
can not advise him to sign that, but I have told Mr. 
\V., as he has been very obliging to me in this 
matter, I should advise Mr. S. to execute a mere 
quitclaim of any single lot not included in the lots 
allotted by the i)artition deed to his grandmother, 
Mrs. ." 



Years After. 183 

" Mrs. S. , of course, will not sign any deed, un- 
less accompanied by my written approbation." 

"If client and H. M. S. are identical, this part 
of the case (/. e., as to the leased lots) seems to look 
very fair for him ; prima facie, it certainly is so." 

" Now about this quitclaim deed," said Mrs. 
Williard, '' which you see your father never signed, 
it is easy enough to understand that the occurrence 
of the transfer of property took place at the time 
your grandmother was ill, after your grandfather 
was lost at sea. She never took any further interest 
in her property affairs, neither did any one else." 

From a paper accompanying the deed : " Know 
all men by these present, and whereas the said deed 
was executed by all of the parties thereto, excepting 
M. S., who died before executing the same, and 
whereas all the right, title, interest, and estate which 
was left and remained to the said M. S., by reason 
of her omission to execute the said deed, has vested 

by descent in H. M. S., of , as sole and only 

heir at law." 

"Now, therefore, these presents witness that the 
said H. M. S. and his wife, for and in consideration 
of the execution of the said deed by the parties 
therein named, other than the said M. S. and of one 



184 Posie : or, From Rti^eille to Retreat. 

dollar io be in hand paid, and other good and valuable 
considerations, thereto moving, have granted, re- 
mised, released, and quitclaimed, and hereby do 
grant, remise, release, and quitclaim this certain lot 
of land in the City of New York." 

"And the said H. M. S., for himself, his heirs, 
executors, administrators, and assigns, doth hereby 
covenant and agree to and with each and every of 
the grantors above referred to, that neither he nor 
his heirs, executors, administrators, or assigns, nor 
any i)erson or persons lawfully claiming under him 
or them, shall ever set up any title or claim, or chal- 
lenge any interest or estate of any nature or kind 
soever, of, in, and to the said land in the said deed." 

" And it is hereby expressly declared to l)e the 
intention of these presents to cure the defect of title 
caused by the non-execution of said deed by M. S., 
and to place all parties and persons holding or 
claiming any estate, right, title, or interest in, or lien 
upon the premises therein described and referred to, 
in the same position in regard to the nature, quality, 
amount, or extent of their interest therein, as they 
would have been in case the said deed had been 
executed by said M. S., and that the above release 
and covenant shall be so construed as to j^ive full 



Years After. 185 

effect to such intention, and shall have no other or 
greater force or effect." 

Witness, . 

This Indenture, made the day of Decern 

ber, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight 
hundred and fifty-one, between H. M. S. , of St. 
Augustine, in the State of Florida, part of the 
first part, and Matthew Connor, of the City of New 
York, blacksmith, of the second part, witnesseth, 
that the said part of the first part, for and in con- 
sideration of the sum of one dollar, lawful money 

of the United States of America, to in liand 

paid, by the said party of the second part, at or be- 
fore the ensealing and delivery of these presents, 
the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged, has 
remised, released and quitclaimed, and by these 
presents do remise, release and quitclaim, unto the 
said party of the second part, and to his heirs and 
assigns forever, all that certain lot of land known on 
a map of what is commonly called Bayard's East 
Farm, in the City of New York, as lot number 496 
(four hundred and ninety-six), bounded and de- 
scribed as follows, viz : Beginning at a point on the 
easterly side of Orange street, distant one hundred 
and fifty feet southerly from Hester street, thence run- 



18G Posit ; o>', From Ra't'ille to Retreat. 

ning southerly along Orange street twenty five feet, 
thence easterly parallel with Hester street one hun- 
dred feet, thence northerly parallel with Orange 
street twenty-five feet, thence westerly one hundred 
feet to Orange street at the place of beginning, be 
the said several dimensions more or less. 

Together with all and singular the tenements, 
hereditaments and appurtenances thereunto belong- 
ing, or in anywise apjiertaining, and the reversion 
and reversions, remainder and remainders, rents, 
issues and jirofits thereof; and slW the estate, right, 
title, interest, property, possession, claim and de- 
mand whatsoever, as well in law as in equity, of the 
said party of the first part, of, in or to the above 
described premises, and every jjart and parcel 
thereof, with the appurtenances. To have and to 
hold all and singular the above mentioned and 
described premises, together with the appurtenances, 
unto the said party of the second part, his heirs and 
assigns for ever. 

In 7mtness whereof, the said party of the first part 
has hereunto set hand and seal the day and year 
first above written. 

Sealed and delivered in the presence of 



yrc7n After. 187 

From "The Old Merchants of New York City." 
by walter barrett. 

"How Nicholas Bayard got in with Queen Anne, 
I do not know, but that he was a favorite with her 
is a fact. The Queen, at his recommendation, 
took steps to settle the interior of New York. 

The son of Nicholas Bayard afterward married 
into the Livingston family. 

They published (jueer notices in those days. Here 
is one from the New York Mercury, published by 
Hugh Gains, under marriages : 

'On Tuesday night last (April 26, 1762), Mr. 
Nicholas Bayard, Jr., to Miss Livingston, daughter 
of Peter Vanbrugh Livingston of this place ; mer- 
chant. A very agreeable young lady, endowed with 
all the good qualities necessary for rendering the con- 
nul)ial state perfectly agreeable.' 

Bayard's Mount was a small, cone-shaped mount, 
on which was erected a small fort, or what is now 
corner of Mott and Grand streets. It looked down 
upon the distant city, having the Kolch between 
(that is the great lake of fresh water from Reed to 
Grand). The house and farm of Nicholas Bayard 
were on the north side of the Kolch and not far from 



188 Posie ; or, From Rarille to Retreat. 

the said mount. To the west were swamps and 
woods, and to the north-east orchards and woods." 

ADVERTISEMENT. 

"To money diggers. — Nicholas Bayard offers a 
reward of ^4 to be informed who it is that comes 
by night to his farm near the city and digs great 
holes in the land to the damage of his people and 
cattle. If they be money diggers, he will allow 
them the indulgence of a search, if they come to 
him personally, and dig by daylight and fill up again. 
He will also give them two sj)ades and one pick-axe, 
left behind in their supposed fright." 

"When that farm was in existence, Dutch was 
partly spoken in our city. Pans and Pinkster were 
of universal observance. All made it an idle day ; 
boys and negroes might be seen all day standing in 
the market laughing, joking, and cracking eggs. In 
the afternoon, the grown up apprentices and servant 
girls used to dance on the green in Bayard's farm." 

Then Posie called Mrs. Williard's attention to a 
package of parchment, which j^roved to be old land 
warrants given by the government to soldiers who 



Years After. ]<S9 

had served in the Florida war, and signed in 1854 
by Franklin Pierce, President of the United States. 
They had been purchased by her father from the 
parties to whom they had been given, and with 
them he had located timber land near the old 
plantation. 

Here is something which recalls a remark of 
Maum Di's to me during the war : " Posie, you 
must look after that land of your father's near the 
old plantation. I believe it is all right, and no one 
has got hold of it yet." 

Here is what appears to be good titles to much 
valuable land. After many days of research, both 
through the old papers in the trunk and through 
records at the court-house, Posie's claim was estab- 
lished to many hundred acres of valuable land ; and 
as to the other property, the only clue to which liad 
been hidden all these forty odd years in the (jucer 
old trunk in the garret, all the papers have been 
given to a law\er of the day who may yet unear h 
the mystery. 



190 Posie ; or, From Rncille to Retreat. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



CONCLUSION. 



We have had a long season of blissful rest at this 
beautiful eastern post for five years, and have watched 
the children grow to manhood and womanhood, sur- 
rounded by refined society and civilization. 

It never occurred to me that I should ever try to 
write until a short while ago. Sitting on the broad 
porch which runs almost the entire length of two sides 
of the commanding officer's handsome quarters, en- 
joying a view of the ever changing scenery, I vvas 
dreamily watching the passing cars and steamboats 
which tell of the busy country we are in, listening to 
the faint sounds of the church bells as they came 
from the great city near, and thinking of the comfort 
within, as compared with the days tliat were gone, 
when my attention was called to some people passing 
and their remarks. 

"This is where the officers live," said one. 

" My! but they have a snap!" said another. 

They were intelligent, refined-looking people, 



Conclusion. 191 

though their slang would not indicate it. Their words 
brought on a current of thought which I could not 
resist writing down. 

The average American knows little of his army, 
and little realizes the hardships it has endured during 
all these years of so-called peace. Years of uninter- 
rupted prosperity have obliterated the memory of 
the perilous condition of our country during the 
civil war. The West, with all its wealth and civiliza- 
tion, is now a rival of the East. It must not be for- 
gotten what was the vanguard of all that civilization. 
That the army has ever had a "snap," is hard for 
one like myself, who has been with it from " Reveille 
to Retreat," to realize. As I look across the parade, 
and see the grand old flag fall, and hear the retreat 
gun salute it, and the band play " The Star Spangled 
Banner," I am reminded that our retreat is at hand. 

Still my thoughts course on. They go to Howard, 
who has followed his father's profession and is now 
far away; and to Florida, the "dark-eyed little 
romp," who has found her Hiawatha. 

" Thus it is our daughters leave us, 
Those we love, and those who love us ! 
Just when they have learned to help us. 
When we are old and lean upon them, 



192 Posie ; or, Ftom Reveille io Retreat. 




'and hear the retreat gun salute it. 



Conclusion. 1 93 

Comes a youth with flaunting feathers 
And she follows where he leads her."' 

Our "Bannock War" boy is now just about en- 
tering manhood. He is full of ambition and hard 
study, and has but httle time to spend at home. 
So we find ourselves at the close of the day with 
but one bright light in the home, Katharine, our 
starlight and firelight, our Posie, who bears her 
mother's "real" name, and is ever happy to per- 
form the many loving offices for her, which Posie 
did for her loved one, years ago, in the little city by 
the sea. 

There is a sad, but blissful, calm which steals o'er 
me in this quiet twilight, when I think of the past. 
As I rest in the reclining chair and close my eyes 
on the scenes around, I can almost fancy I hear the 
distant roar of the ocean calling me back to my na- 
tive shore. All these thoughts must be my excuse 
for this attempt : 

"crossing the bar." 

" Sunset and evening star. 
And one clear call for me; 
And may there be no moaning at the bar 
When I put out to sea. 



1 94 Posic ; oi\ From Reveille to Retreat 

" But such a tide as moving seems asleep 
Too full for sound and foam, 
When that wiiich drew from out the boundless dee]i, 
Turns again home. 

" Twilight and evening bell, 
And after that, the dark, 
And mav there be no sadness of farewell, 
When 1 embark. 

" For tho' from out our bourn of time antl peace, 
The flood inav bear me far, 
I hope to see mv Pilot face to face 
When 1 have crossed the bar."' 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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